Night Of The Broken Glass
by Lisa Cove
Summary: Take an over stressed Harry, a Hermione that isn't herself, Quidditch, deadly massacres, a snappy Ginny, the Twins as themselves, Death Eaters, and a Dursley invasion at Hogwarts, and you get this story. Formerly Harry Potter Fifth Year Unchanging. *Ch.10
1. Aunt Petunia's Secret and Harry's Surpri...

Harry Potter; Fifth Year Unchanging  
  
Aunt Petunia's Secret and Harry's Surprise  
  
Chapter One  
  
Harry lay awake for what seemed like the hundredth night that summer. He had relearned everything in his old school books (Hermione would be proud, studying for his OWLS so soon), he had finished all of his summer homework, and when he wasn't studying he was trying to fix Dudley's broken and discarded possessions. He ended up getting only a few hours of sleep each night. After the first few nights back at the Dursley's home he had nightmares filled with Voldemort, Cedric's ghost blaming him for what had happened, and Harry himself joining with Voldemort. The days after the dreams he was extremely uptight and nervous.  
  
During the days he had the need to keep busy. He mowed the Dursley's yard, even though it didn't need it. He did yard work for some of the neighbors, too. The less time he had to think, the less time he spent replaying what had happened at the end of his fourth year in his mind. The Dursleys had plenty for him to do each day, so that when he did fall asleep, he would be too tired to be woken by his nightmares.  
  
He still had the dreams, he just didn't remember them. He would wake covered in sweat, with Voldemort's shrill laugh still ringing in his ears and a fading picture in his mind. He never felt awake and well rested when he woke up every morning. And this morning was no different, though it was the morning of his birthday.  
  
"Harry! Harry Potter you lazy boy, get up this minute!" his Aunt Petunia screeched as she opened the door to his room. A large barn owl, announcing its presence with a screech of its own, launched itself from the perch atop Harry's desk. It flapped its wings in Petunia's face, who swung at the bird but missed. She backed up into the railing next to the stairs, then sank to the floor in a heap, screaming.  
  
The owl dropped a letter on her head that was addressed to Mrs. Petunia Dursley. "Vernon! Vernon, help! Harry sent a mad owl after me!" Aunt Petunia was screaming at the top of her lungs. Harry knew he was in trouble the moment she started screaming his name. He could hear his Uncle Vernon thundering up the stairs toward his room.  
  
Vernon's beady little eyes took in the scene at the top of the stairs: Aunt Petunia on the floor with an owl on her knee, the letter clasped in her shaking hands; and then he looked at Harry.  
  
"Vernon," Petunia said in a wavering voice, "The letter, it is addressed to me. Why would those… those freaks be writing to me?" she said, referring to the letter in her hand.  
  
Harry took a step closer to the owl and it flew to him and landed on his shoulder. Harry brought it to his room - where he saw half a dozen owls waiting for him - and it flew in, settling upon his desk. He closed the door and turned to his Uncle, waiting for the blow to fall. And fall it did.  
  
"You, boy," snarled Uncle Vernon turning on Harry. "How dare you frighten your Aunt like that?" Uncle Vernon was past the point of anger that made his face purple; it was a dark maroon color. Harry almost laughed at the color of his face thinking of how much Ron hated maroon.  
  
Aunt Petunia caused a slight diversion by letting out a small yelp of terror as she read the letter. She held it up for Vernon to read when she had finished. He snatched it out of her hand and started to read. Harry and Petunia watched him; Harry with 'bated breath.  
  
Harry was just dying to know what the letter said. He knew better than to try and grab it away. Although the Dursleys had never hit him very hard, he didn't believe that there wouldn't be a first time. They would probably also lock him in his room without food for a couple of days like they did before his second year at Hogwarts.  
  
"Well, what rubbish," said Uncle Vernon when he had finished reading. He crumpled the letter up and went to put it in his pocket, but somehow he missed it. The letter landed on the floor. Harry watched as the letter rolled towards him. Petunia followed it with her eyes. With one quick movement he had stepped in front of the crumpled parchment. Petunia didn't say anything.  
  
"Boy, back in your room. You can come out tomorrow. Not a word, Petunia, about this letter. Not a word," he said, putting emphasis on each word he spoke. Uncle Vernon helped Aunt Petunia up and Harry took that moment to kick the letter into his room. He was almost sure Petunia had seen him and given him a slight nod of her head. When he had closed the door behind him he heard the lock click from the outside.  
  
Pig was flying around his room and twittering madly as he always did. Hedwig sat atop her cage with a parcel and a letter attached to her leg. Two school owls, not counting Petunia's, were perched on Harry's bedposts with letters attached to their legs.  
  
Harry didn't mind being locked in his room as long as he could keep his mind off of Cedric and Voldemort, and if he could get some food. "Do they really think a stupid Muggle lock can keep me here?" he said out loud to himself as he picked up Petunia's letter and crossed to his bed. He had been able to pick locks, including the one on his door, since his second year. He didn't want to have to risk having a repeat of that particular summer.  
  
Harry smoothed out the piece of parchment and sat on his bed, leaning back on the pillows. The letter was written in neat handwriting that looked like Professor McGonagall's. Harry read it out loud to himself.  
  
Dear Mrs. Dursley,  
  
Although you hav e never showed many signs of magic, your name has always been down to come to Hogwarts in the event that you grew into your ability. When you were eleven your magic rating was not high enough for you to be accepted into Hogwarts. However, just recently your rating has increased considerably. We are now sure that you have enough magical ability to succeed at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  
  
I do not know if you are aware that both your parents were squibs, or non-magical people, born into a magical family. Your grandparents, both sets, were magical, as were the rest of their children. Generations of your family have graduated from Hogwarts and I hope that tradition will continue.  
  
Without further ado, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment that you will need to complete your first year of schooling.  
  
Term begins on the first of September. We await your owl confirming that you will be at the school on the first. You are to take the Hogwarts Express from Kings Cross station, platform nine and three quarters. There will be a private compartment for Witches and Wizards starting their schooling after the age of eleven.  
  
Yours sincerely,  
  
Minerva McGonagall.  
  
So it was McGonagall's handwriting as Harry had guessed.  
  
He groaned. Harry stared at the letter and reread it over and over again. He wouldn't have believed it if the letter had not been signed by the very strict Transfigurations teacher. The letter raised a multitude of intriguing questions, but all he could do was groan again at the thought of Petunia invading his life at Hogwarts.  
  
Harry's stomach growled. He looked over at his clock; it was nigh onto lunchtime. He had been so absorbed in the letter that he'd forgotten about breakfast, much less lunch. He got up and went to his trunk, and pulled out his Invisibility Cloak and a set of what appeared to be plain old hairpins.  
  
Fred and George Weasley had given the hairpins to Harry by owl post on the first day of summer break. Harry had thought they were ordinary hairpins until he saw the three W's scratched into the metal; the insignia for Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, the twins' soon-to-be joke shop. The hairpins were enchanted to unlock all muggle locks. The twins thought they might come in handy after being locked up in his second year.  
  
Harry covered himself in his cloak, making sure he was completely invisible, before going to the door. Putting the hairpins in the lock he said "Alohomor!" The activating spell was a deceptively simple variation on the 'Alohomora' spell that Hermione was so fond of. As far as Harry knew, he and the twins were the only ones who had a set of Weasleys' Help Yourself Hair Pins. After a few seconds the lock clicked open. He pocketed the hairpins and crept down the stairs, careful to step over the creaky bottom one. He moved across the floor cat-like to the kitchen.  
  
Luckily for him, the kitchen door was open. When he walked into the kitchen, he saw his cousin Dudley's prodigious backside hanging out of the fridge. Dudley cradled an armload of food like a parent might cradle a child. Harry had to bite back his laughter or he would cause a real fright. 'But that could be fun in spite of the trouble I'd be in,' he thought, remembering how he'd once terrified Draco Malfoy at the Shrieking Shack. Dudley was talking to himself and to the food as he dug even deeper into the fridge. When he finally had more then he could easily carry he backed out of the fridge and waddled over to the table, dropping ham, ketchup (which exploded all over the floor) and a bottle of soda. Harry took this moment to dive into the still open fridge, as he was sure Dudley would be coming back for more. Harry grabbed what he could carry under his cloak.  
  
When he was back in his room he relocked the door. Harry sat on the floor as he ate as fast as he could and then stashed the rest for later under the loose floorboard. Harry was still sitting on the floor, playing idly with the Invisibility Cloak, when he thought again about the letter. He was about to get up to have another look at it when an obnoxious hooting noise caused him to look up. His mouth dropped open in amazement.  
  
Standing in the corner of the room was Harry's best friend Ron Weasley, along with his brothers Fred and George. "Took you long enough," said Ron. "Thought you went blind or something. Happy birthday Harry!" Ron grinned at him.  
  
"Yes, Happy Birthday Harry, you old bean," said the twins bowing low to Harry. "The way you were sitting there eating that food it was like you hadn't eaten all day," said Fred with concern. They knew how bad Harry was treated.  
  
"That," said Harry, "is because I haven't eaten. How- how did you guys get here?"  
  
"Flew of course," said Ron as if that was obvious, although Harry couldn't see any brooms. "We got a bit of help from Bill. He enchanted our brooms to be invisible, so when we fly them we also become invisible."  
  
Harry was about to reply when he heard the doorknob clicking as someone tried to open it from the outside. This was followed by a fumbling noise that was most likely either Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia emptying their pockets looking for their key. Harry tossed Fred his cloak. He motioned for them to be quiet. "Harry, Harry are you in there?" asked Aunt Petunia in a low voice.  
  
'What a stupid question,' Harry thought, 'where else would I be.' The Dursleys didn't have to know about his Invisibility cloak.  
  
"Harry, can I come in? I need to talk to you." Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. Not only was Petunia asking for permission to enter but it sounded like she'd been crying.  
  
"Er... come in," Harry said. He was glad that he had hidden his food when he had. He looked to the corner where the Weasleys were, making sure that he couldn't see a foot or any other appendage hanging out of the Invisibility Cloak.  
  
The lock clicked open and in walked a very sad looking Aunt Petunia. "Can I sit down?" she asked. Without waiting for a reply she sat on Harry's bed. Harry pulled out the chair from his desk, turned it to face his Aunt and sat down. "Did you read the letter?" She didn't sound mad at him. "Do you still have that beautiful owl, so I can send my reply? Oh yes I see it. Lily had one just like that when she was in school. What should I say in this letter?  
  
"Oh, I brought you up some snacks. I thought you might be hungry." Harry was starting to wonder if he'd really woken up that morning, for surely he must still be asleep and dreaming, but he gladly took a cookie off the plate she was holding out to him. He had never known his Aunt to go against his Uncle's wishes.  
  
"So... Er... What do you want to say in your letter? I have some parchment and a quill you can use," said Harry. He took the writing supplies from his desk and handed them to her.  
  
"Well, I want them to know that I can't wait to go to Hogwarts, after all I've been waiting my whole life to go there." For a few minutes she scribbled away on the parchment. When she had finished she handed the quill and parchment back to Harry. She watched as he attached the letter to the barn owl's leg. As the owl flew away, she started to talk again.  
  
"Harry, I know I was never a good mother substitute for you, but it's just that you reminded me so much of your mother. I know no amount of "sorrys" will fix what this family did to you. When I was younger I really wanted to go to school with Lily. I was only a year older than she was. Years came and went, and I didn't get my letter. Lily continued to go back to school. It was really her second year when things started to change between us. That's the year that changed everything, Harry; she was really happy, she didn't miss me. I can't blame her for not missing me because I became very cold towards her. That school really changed our bond as sisters. She had so much fun at school with her friends and being top of her class.  
  
"I really wanted to go more than anything. Now I can. Vernon told me that I wasn't allowed to go. And when I laughed at him, he said I had to choose between school and my family. He doesn't know that if I choose school then I get both. I get to go back to my family. They told me years ago that they didn't want to see me until I accepted Lily. I'm going to get back in touch with my family and you get to come too. I haven't told Vernon my decision yet, Harry." Petunia was in tears. "I'm leaving Vernon."  
  
Chapter Two  
  
Harry's mind reeled. Was Petunia telling the truth? Could she ever really leave Vernon? And did he really have family he didn't know, and if so, why had Dumbledore given Harry to the Dursleys to raise? Harry felt a presence by his side; the Weasleys had come up quietly to stand next to him. Ron whispered in his ear, putting voice to Harry's thoughts. Harry shrugged his shoulders at Ron, but from Petunia's perspective it looked like he was shrugging her off. Her face fell.  
  
"Does that mean you don't want to come with me?" Petunia look older then Harry had ever seen her, her beady eyes still watery from her tears and her face all blotchy. Harry also noticed for the first time the creases on her face, a deep line between her eyebrows, smaller lines around the corners of her eyes and mouth. All of the lines had gotten there over years of scowling and glaring at Harry.  
  
"No. That it isn't it. I mean, I just can't believe-," Harry sputtered and foundered about. "Let me recap on what you just said: you're leaving Uncle Vernon to go to Hogwarts and you're taking me with you? Does that cover it?"  
  
Petunia laughed. Harry's hopes fell, he knew it was too good to be true; but Petunia was smiling at him. A genuine smile. "Harry, you didn't really think I would leave you here? Vernon never was your guardian; I hate to think what would happen to you. He would really beat the stuffing out of you if he got the idea that you had anything to do with my leaving." She paused to look at Harry but he just stared back at her. "I would love to take you to meet your grandparents, my mom and dad that is. And your great Aunts and Uncles. They've all got a fair share of magic in them." Harry was looking at her with wide eyes, thoughts of a large family that wanted him running wildly through his head. Then his face fell; what if they didn't like him, what if they blamed him for happened so many years ago to his mum? Petunia noticed his rapid change in face.  
  
"Whatever is the matter Harry? I would have thought you would be happy to meet more of your family."  
  
"What if they don't like me?" he looked down at his hands when he heard just how silly that sounded, and then he looked back up at Petunia. He could see that she was trying not to laugh at his sudden self- consciousness.  
  
"They liked you when you were a wee baby riding Lily's hip. Our cousins liked you too, but you would just cling to Lily and James. Almost like you knew you wouldn't have much time with them."  
  
Harry looked relieved. "I don't remember them."  
  
"I didn't think you would, you were just a little thing when you met my cousins."  
  
"Not them, my parents. I don't remember them."  
  
Petunia started to say something, but then closed her mouth again. She didn't know what to say to the boy who she had considered a burden for almost fifteen years. "I never should have treated you the way I did, I'm..."  
  
"Don't," said Harry. It wasn't that he didn't want her to apologize to him, but he wasn't ready to hear it from her. She was right about what she had said earlier; nothing could change how she had treated him. How she'd let other people treat him. Sorrys couldn't give him his childhood back. Harry tuned out Petunia's voice as she droned on about something to do with holidays with Vernon's family. He was filled with a blind rage against the woman sitting on his bed. He clenched and unclenched his hands as memories washed over him; his first true memories, not the dreams of green light or the flying motorcycle, but of being locked in the cupboard, being yelled at for reasons he didn't understand. He felt his face screw up; he quickly closed his eyes and looked down.  
  
One of the Weasleys put a hand on his shoulder; he was pretty sure it was Ron again. He felt, rather then heard, the words, "Hang in there."  
  
Petunia was still going on about the holidays. "My family," she was saying, "hasn't even met Dudley. I would never take him to my parents' house for the holidays. I wouldn't have gone at all if mother hadn't forced me. She threatened to write me out of her will. I bet she would let us live with them until we can get our own house. We could get a small house in one of those magical villages the wizard folk live in. What do you think?" she asked Harry. The aged tiredness was gone, replaced with little kid excitement.  
  
"Sure," Harry said off-handedly. She didn't seem to notice his less then enthusiastic reply; she kept on talking like he hadn't said anything.  
  
"I don't think we should tell Vernon or Dudley about my leaving. Is there a place that you could stay for the rest of summer? You would be better off somewhere else."  
  
"Er..." Was all he said because Ron was whispering in his ear again. "I could stay with the Weasleys. They had invited me over today be owl post."  
  
"That's not Arthur Weasley, is it?" asked Aunt Petunia. Harry just nodded his head yes. "He came to some of Lily's later birthday parties with his girlfriend. Lily's friends were some kind of fun." A dreamy look spread over her face and she exhaled with a sigh that sounded allot like 'Remus Lupin'.  
  
Harry started choking on the cookie he was eating. Remus Lupin was a werewolf, and Harry was sure that his Aunt didn't know that. He was hoping that his Aunt didn't fancy him, but judging by the look on her face she did. The thought of Petunia and Lupin together made Harry shudder.  
  
Petunia was asking him how soon he would be ready to go, because the sooner he left the better for him. He told her that he could leave as soon as he was packed, which wouldn't take long. Petunia made to leave, but paused from closing the door behind her to crane her rather large neck through the gap, "Oh, Harry, Happy fourteenth - I mean fifteenth birthday." She closed the door with a snap. Harry could hear her feet on the stairs.  
  
Harry saw Ron pulling off the cloak. The twins appeared beside him. "Are you all right, Harry?" Ron asked him.  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine." They didn't look like they accepted his answer. "Let's pack this stuff up and get out of here!" The twins' faces broke into identical grins, a Weasley twin trademark. "All right Harry!" said Fred, coming over and thumping him on the back.  
  
"You get to leave the Dursleys forever. Who would of thought?" said George as he too came up to congratulate Harry.  
  
"Well what you waiting for Harry, lets pack this stuff up!" said an overly excited Ron, waving his arms around Harry's room. Harry and the Weasleys ran around the room scooping up Harry's belongings and dropping them into the trunk. Harry untied all his packages from the owls and sent them off, then put the packages in his trunk, deciding to open them later. He noticed one from Headmaster Dumbledore; he made a mental note to open that one first. Dumbledore had never sent him a package at home before. Then the four of them ran down the stairs to say goodbye.  
  
"Cheery O!" they said in unison, to the shock of the assembled Dursleys. Dudley ran squealing like a pig out of the living room. Harry and the Weasleys broke into fits of laughter and rushed back up the stairs.  
  
"What about the trunk? How can we bring it, when we can't use magic?" asked Harry, looking from Ron to Fred and then George. Harry was sure his broom couldn't carry both the heavy trunk and him.  
  
"Oh right, almost forgot about that," said Ron, smacking his forehead. From a pocket in his jacket he pulled out a small jar. In the jar Harry could see a small piece of parchment. Ron handed the jar to Harry. Harry had no idea what he was supposed to do with it. He just stared at it, until Ron said, "Harry, open the jar and tip the parchment into your trunk. Don't touch it yourself or you will become feather light."  
  
Harry did as Ron had told him to do. When the parchment touched the contents in the trunk it seemed to sink into Harry's belongings. He had to quickly close the trunk because his robes had begun to float out of it. "What is that?" asked Harry.  
  
"That is a very helpful little bit of parchment, Harry. It will make anything feather light. Bill enchanted it for us, he is always happy to help us out when we need it. Let's tie that trunk to your broom and go," said Fred. Fred helped Harry balance the trunk and tie it to the Firebolt.  
  
"Harry, fly up into the clouds when we leave and don't worry, you won't have any trouble following us," said George. "All right, let's get out of here." He grabbed his broom and was gone. Fred did the same. Ron took his broom and as he flew out the window he gave a loud whoop. Harry could only imagine how Ron was flying.  
  
Harry made sure he and the trunk were covered with the Invisibility cloak before he flew out the window. He let himself drop almost to the ground before he pulled out of the dive. He flew straight up towards the clouds and when he burst though he saw the Weasleys hovering on their brooms just above him. Harry did a double take. "You guys are supposed to be invisible. Did the charm wear off? My trunk isn't going to get heavy, is it?" he asked, turning around to touch his trunk and hoping it wouldn't suddenly weigh him down.  
  
"Harry you prat, if we stay invisible we would lose each other, or our voices from calling out to each other. We are only invisible when a muggle from the ground can see us," explained Ron.  
  
They flew in silence for a while. So many thought were chasing each other around Harry's mind. 'What a day,' he thought. He couldn't wait to get back to Hogwarts. He was so hoping that this year would be better than last year, 'But probably not with Voldemort being back and having me on his most wanted list,' Harry thought sourly. One thought overrode even thoughts of Voldemort. He just had to ask it out loud. "If your dad knows my Aunt how come they didn't recognize each other last year when they met?" Harry asked.  
  
"I don't know Harry. I don't remember if Dad formally introduced himself when they met last year. Maybe they look allot different," said Fred. "But hey look on the bright side, we are making great time. We will be right on time for Er, um-" Fred's voice trilled off. He and the other Weasleys became invisible again as they passed over a small village; Harry was reminded that he'd been invisible to them for the entire trip.  
  
"On time for what?" Harry asked.  
  
"Dinner."  
  
"Our favorite radio program."  
  
"To play Quidditch." Harry heard three disembodied voices. When the Weasleys came back into view they looked guilty about something; their faces and ears were bright red.  
  
"Er, right," said Harry. He was starting to wonder why they had just showed up at his house on his birthday, without so much as a hint in any of their letters that they were coming. Harry didn't say anything else about it; if they were playing at something Harry didn't want to get in the way or ruin it.  
  
Every now and then one of the Weasleys would fly down below the clouds to make sure they were still going the right way. Talking was at a minimum as they flew. The air was turning cold as the sun sunk below the clouds.  
  
Ron and Harry dipped down beneath the clouds and found themselves right above The Burrow, the Weasley family home. They went back up above the clouds to tell the twins. The four landed very neatly on the front lawn and dismounted their brooms. Harry pulled off the Invisibility Cloak as they walked up the path. Ron pulled open the front door, shoving Harry inside first.  
  
The first thing Harry noticed was darkness. Then the interior torches all lit up at once; balloons, streamers, and bits of confetti fell from the ceiling getting stuck in Harry's hair. "Surprise!" yelled at least fifty voices, including Ron and the twins who were grinning from ear to ear and looking very pleased with themselves. A big banner unrolled that said "Happy Birthday Harry!" It was a handmade banner done in the distinctive style of Gryffindor's resident artist Dean Thomas. Harry stared in shock at his first ever surprise birthday party. Lee Jordan pushed a butterbeer into his hand. He was surrounded by friends from Hogwarts, all crammed into The Burrow's front rooms.  
  
"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked Ron.  
  
Ron scanned the room but came up empty. "I don't know. When we left to get you she seemed a bit put out, and snappy. Maybe it's that time of the -"  
  
"Ron!" said a sharp voice from behind the boys. Ginny was standing behind them glaring at Ron. Harry took note of the fact that she was wearing a blue summer dress. It was the first time he'd ever seen her in such a feminine garment. "Don't talk about your friend like that." Ginny moved closer to Harry, almost until they were touching; Harry unthinkingly took a step back. She yelled something over the noise, but he couldn't make out her words. He leaned closer again so he could hear her.  
  
"A black dog is in Ron's room!" She winked at him. "I'll find Hermione for you!"  
  
"Thanks!" he yelled back so she could hear him. Harry and Ron pushed their way through the crowd of people all the way up the stairs. Everyone that they passed told Harry to have a great birthday. Upon opening the door Harry saw a great big black dog sitting on Ron's bed. "Hello Sirius." The dog became a man.  
  
"Hullo Harry, happy birthday. How you holding up?" asked Sirius, looking at Harry closely. He knew Harry wasn't doing as well as he looked. He could see how tired his eyes looked, they had lost their sparkle; the bags under his eyes made him look older than fifteen, and he looked skinnier. Sirius was hoping that some time here would help Harry move past Cedric's death.  
  
"I'm- I'm great Sirius. This has to be my best birthday ever. You're looking better yourself, how long have you been here and how long are you staying?" asked Harry. He noticed that Sirius was losing the starved look that Azkaban had given him, but his eyes still looked a little haunted.  
  
"I'm here for the rest of the summer unless Dumbledore needs me. I've been staying with the Weasleys for the past week. They all know I'm not the dog that they thought I was," said Sirius with a tight smile. "But the guest of honor should not be missing his party and his friends shouldn't let him. We'll talk soon Harry," added Sirius, and with a 'pop' he was back to his dog self.  
  
As they headed back down the many flights of stairs they caught up with Hermione. She gave Harry a searching look that made him squirm. "You didn't turn your relatives into squids, did you Harry?" she asked. She also sent Ron a look that clearly said that if Harry was in trouble, Ron must be involved. The familiarity of it got past Harry's defenses, and the laughter he shared with Ron in that moment was doubly good because he'd been secretly afraid he'd lost the capacity for it. "Oh honestly," she said, as she too started to giggle.  
  
The party was highly enjoyable. The trio made the rounds, talking and laughing with their friends. At one point Harry lost Ron and Hermione in the crowd. He found Ron talking with some of the Gryffindors. Hermione wasn't with them.  
  
Harry stood on his toes to see over the people flocking to an empty patch of floor in sets of two. There was going to be dancing, apparently. He saw Hermione standing in a corner with a faraway look on her face, but now he wanted to find Cho Chang. He kept scanning the room, but he didn't see her anywhere. He didn't even know if Cho was at the party.  
  
He saw Fred Weasley appear in front of Hermione, talking to her with his back to Harry. She smiled sweetly up at him; Harry had never seen her look at anyone like that before. She let Fred lead her off to an empty spot on the floor. Ron had apparently seen them, too, for he was glaring at them and muttering under his breath.  
  
Hannah Abbott, from Hufflepuff, came up to Ron and drew his attention away from Fred and Hermione. She asked him to dance and he agreed at once, taking her arm with a wide grin on his face he led her onto the floor. Harry was a little disappointed to be left alone, but that thought had hardly formed when Cho showed up.  
  
"Hi Harry, happy birthday," Cho said.  
  
"Thanks." There was a short silence as Cho regarded him with large brown eyes. "How are you doing?" he finally asked, as he remembered the leaving feast and how sad she had been when Cedric had died. Her eyes still shone as if with unshed tears.  
  
"I'm getting there. How about you, are you okay?" she asked. Her voice caught in her throat, a clear giveaway to Harry that she wasn't doing great but just didn't want to let him know it.  
  
"Yeah, me too, I'll be fine soon," Harry said. He couldn't tell her about his dreams. He could see in her eyes that she didn't feel the same way about him as she had about Cedric. A hint of resentment was there mixed with the sadness. They talked awhile about the coming school year, Quidditch, and their summer breaks.  
  
Hermione returned to Harry's side with a big grin on her face; Cho excused herself and left them. "So why are you looking so happy?" Harry teased. "Did you have some fun with Fred?" She looked at him and smiled wider, which Harry didn't think would have been possible.  
  
"Have you seen Ron? Where did he go?" she asked. Something in the tone of her voice didn't quite match her bright and happy expression.  
  
"He went to dance with Hannah Abbott." Harry said. "So what's going on with you and Krum?" Hermione didn't respond to his gentle jibe. She started to stare off into space again, so Harry decided to leave off with the banter. When Ron returned he was red in the face and smirking. Right away he started in on Hermione about her and Fred, but she didn't seem to hear anything that he asked her. Ron gave up; he looked at Harry and rolled his eyes.  
  
"Ron, leave Hermione alone." Ginny was back. "She can dance with Fred if she wants to." She did something behind the boys' backs that caused Hermione to snicker. Ron's eyes narrowed and Harry knew that a Weasley sibling battle was now under way.  
  
"Oh, I know," said Ron with considerable glee. "Why don't you dance with Ginny, Harry?"  
  
Ginny's face turned as crimson as her hair. "You don't have to, Harry," she said quickly.  
  
"He would love to dance with you Ginny, wouldn't he Hermione?" Hermione didn't take any notice of Ron. Ron gave Harry a little push towards Ginny. Harry could feel heat rising in his face. Trying to salvage Ginny's dignity as well as his own, he said, "Sure I'd love to dance with you, Ginny." She didn't look completely convinced, but she allowed Harry to lead her to a clear part of the floor.  
  
They started to dance. He was very surprised to feel how small and fragile she felt in his arms. Her interaction with her brothers had given Harry a perception of her as being sturdy. Pulling her to him brought back a sensory memory of when he'd held her in the Camber of Secrets, which was not as unwelcome a flashback as he would have expected. His hands moved farther around her and met bare flesh – dear God, her dress was backless!  
  
She pulled away from him, leaving Harry feeling slightly put out. She turned away from him slightly as if she meant to leave but Harry put his hands around her waist to keep her there. She looked up at Harry with an unreadable expression in her bright brown eyes. She licked her lips – such pretty lips, Harry noticed for the first time – and opened them to say something. Then she sneezed, and sneezed again.  
  
"Bless you," said Harry.  
  
"Thanks." She pulled a tissue from her pocket. "I've got a bit of a summer cold. Been trying to get rid of it for all this week."  
  
"Maybe you're allergic to something?" Harry suggested.  
  
"That could be," she said with a wry smile. They settled into the dance again, Harry being careful this time to keep his hands on her waist. She tilted her head up so she could see into his eyes. He looked down into her face, so familiar yet so new, taking in her red-gold hair and the light dusting of freckles across her nose. Her lips began moving, but Harry couldn't hear a word she was saying. Sound was pushing in on his ears, roaring all around him. Voices, music and wind pressed in on him. He couldn't hear Ginny above the roar that had surrounded him. "Ginny?" He couldn't even hear his own voice.  
  
She had stopped talking and was now looking at him with concern. Her lips were still moving, the only clue that she was trying to say anything. Harry watched as her lips formed the same word repeatedly. His name, he realized. As he stood there looking at her, he could see that she was growing angry with him, but he try as he might, he couldn't manage to make out anything she was saying.  
  
The noise from the party felt like it was pressing in on him, as voices swirled by him. Harry couldn't make any sense out of any of it. 'I'm going crazy,' he thought. Then all at once everything turned back to normal. Ginny stomped away from him, pushing her way through the crowd of party-goers. She wore a hurt expression on her face from being snubbed by Harry.  
  
Harry's first thought was to go after her and try to explain. 'How?' Harry asked himself. He didn't know how to make it right again. Would she believe him if he told her the truth about what had just happened; and if she did, would she write him off as crazy? Hermione would know what to do, he was sure, but he didn't see her anywhere. He was going to go and find her when Ron stepped in front of him, blocking his way.  
  
"What was that all about?" Ron asked Harry. Harry was relieved to see that Ron wasn't mad at him. "Are you all right Harry? You look a little funny." He studied Harry's face. "Maybe you should go outside and get some air, it's a little hot in here."  
  
"That sounds like a good idea. But what about Ginny?" he asked. "Do you think I should go after her?" Harry still wasn't feeling quite right. Maybe Ron was right, it was hot inside, and he might just need some fresh air.  
  
"Too iffy. She has her own amount of the Weasley temper. Mind you she looks about ready to curse you into oblivion." He paused. "I think you should let someone else go and talk to her. Don't worry, we will take care of it, Hermione and I, that is."  
  
Harry nodded. "Thanks. I'm going to go outside for a bit. I'll see you later." He tried to sound normal, but the weird feeling was coming back.  
  
Harry pushed through all the people and out the back door into the night air. He saw more people in the garden. Even the garden gnomes had come out to enjoy the party. He kept walking, past the people sitting amongst the flowers on benches, past the last bed of flowers, and past the point where he could hear the music from the party. He reached the stone wall that he and the Weasley boys had flung gnomes over one summer. He climbed onto the wall and walked along it. The Burrow disappeared as he followed the bend in the stone wall.  
  
He was busy looking at his feet to make sure he wouldn't fall off the wall when he felt goose pimples rise on his arms. A coldness that felt like he was in a block of ice surrounded him. The stones he was walking on shone like they too were covered in ice. "Hello Harry." Harry almost fell off the wall in shock. He jumped down onto the grass.  
  
Hovering above the stone wall where he had just been was the ghostly form of Cedric. "Hello," he said again.  
  
Harry could see through him like any ghost. He was trying to get over the shock of walking through Cedric; it was a nasty one. "Hello Cedric," he said, once he finally found his voice.  
  
"Earlier, when you were talking to Ginny Weasley, and you couldn't make out anything she was saying, that was sort of my doings. Sorry that I got you in a bit of hot water." He gave Harry an apologetic smile. "So how have you been?" Cedric asked as if he nothing was wrong, as if he was still alive and was just a guest at Harry's fifteenth birthday party.  
  
"I'm-" Harry took a deep breath, it was like he was back to telling everybody he was fine when he couldn't feel worse than he did. "I'm just fine, I guess."  
  
Cedric studied him; he clearly didn't believe a word that he had just said. "Have you been to my grave, Harry?"  
  
"No, I'm sorry." Harry had never even thought to go see his grave, even if he did know where it was.  
  
"Don't be; sorry, that is. The point of my being here isn't for you to come to pay your respects."  
  
"Then what?" Harry hoped Cedric wasn't going to haunt him, like Moaning Myrtle did with her toilet. His concern must have shown on his face, for Cedric laughed a little at him.  
  
"Don't worry Harry, I'm not here to haunt you. Do you know what it says on my grave stone?" Harry didn't have the faintest idea what was on his grave. "It says RIP, or rest in peace. Harry I can't rest in peace if you keep bringing me back for nightly visits to your dreams, where I get to star.  
  
"For me to rest in peace you have to stop reliving what happened, and for that to happen you have to forgive yourself. It's not your fault that I died. You know that don't you Harry? Nobody is blaming you."  
  
"I am," Harry said. "If I hadn't talked you into taking the cup with me you'd be alive."  
  
"It's not the time to play the 'What If' game. It can go on for ages, and it will tear you up. Go back to the party Harry, try to work things out with Ginny, and have fun. Remember what I told you Harry, it's not your fault. Good-bye Harry."  
  
"Good-bye Cedric," Harry said. Cedric faded from view but his words hung in the air. They echoed and reechoed in Harry's head. He knew it would be hard to forgive himself, but he had to try.  
  
Harry walked slowly back to the party, thoughts swirling inside his head. He hoped that seeing Cedric and hearing what he had to say would help him move on. He was sure that he would get more sleep tonight.  
  
"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked Ron when he was back inside. He wanted to ask her about Ginny. Neither of the two girls were anywhere to be seen.  
  
"Not sure," said Ron. "Have you noticed anything different about her?"  
  
"Hermione?" Harry asked.  
  
"Yeah, she has been acting a little off from the moment she arrived here a week ago."  
  
"Maybe you're overreacting," Harry suggested.  
  
"Ginny noticed too, it isn't just me. She'll be all normal, as normal as she can be, like when you first got here. She was all happy to see you. She was even cracking jokes, but then that's not very Hermione-like, come to think of it. But anyway, she has hardly talked to you since you got here."  
  
Harry pondered this. Hermione hadn't really said anything to him. "Have you asked her if she's all right?"  
  
"Ginny did. Ginny said that Hermione didn't respond to her, not even to make an excuse for the way she was acting. Ginny wouldn't let it be, and Hermione blew up at her. I was standing right outside Ginny's bedroom so I heard the whole thing, and I'm telling you, it didn't sound like Hermione."  
  
"How so?" asked Harry. He scanned the crowd but he couldn't find her.  
  
"Well you know how Hermione is when she's mad? She'll get all red in the face and the likes, and believe me, I've had more then my fair share of rows with her, so I should know."  
  
"What happened?" Harry was dying to know, and Ron was just dragging the story out.  
  
"Well," said Ron, "after she finished yelling at Ginny, with no big words mind you, she pulled open the door with almost enough force to take it off its hinges. But the weird thing was she looked perfectly calm. She wasn't red in the face or anything. She didn't even give me an earful for listening in. She disappeared for the rest of the day. Ginny was frantic, thought she had run away."  
  
"Maybe we should talk to her. Find out what's going on with her." Ron was right, that whole episode didn't sound like Hermione at all.  
  
"Talk to whom?" Hermione was right there, as if summoned by the sound of her name. Ron raised his eyebrows and cocked his head towards her, all the while giving Harry a strange look. He did all this without Hermione giving any hint that she had noticed, even though she was facing him.  
  
"Um, Ginny. She went away in a huff earlier, and we were wondering if she's okay," lied Harry.  
  
"I'll go get her, she's in her room." Hermione swept away without as much as a backwards glance.  
  
"Now don't tell me that's not strange," said Ron, "her coming over here when we were talking about her."  
  
"Yeah, and she didn't seem to notice the look you gave her," Harry said. "But what do I do about Ginny?"  
  
"Too late," muttered Ron. Hermione had returned with Ginny in tow. Ginny glared at Harry, looking very intimidating.  
  
"What," she snapped at Harry, "do you want?" Ron nodded enthusiastically at Harry behind Ginny's back.  
  
"Do you want to walk with me?" Harry tentatively asked her. Harry offered her his arm. She took it, spun on her heel and marched towards the back door dragging Harry with her. Harry looked over his shoulder at Ron, who gave him a sympathetic look. Hermione was gone again, Harry noted.  
  
On their way out the back door, Ginny grabbed a cloak off one of the hooks. In one fluid motion she had the cloak wrapped around her body. The night air had cooled considerably since Harry had come back from talking with Cedric. She sat down on one of the benches in the garden. Harry followed her lead. The music from inside was still loud.  
  
She was looking at him, waiting for him to say something. Harry wracked his brain. He didn't know why she was so mad at him, and he didn't know of anything to make her feel better. Maybe flattery would do the trick.  
  
"So talk!" she snapped at him again.  
  
He decided to go with flattery. "You look nice, Ginny."  
  
She made a disgruntled noise. "Oh please Harry, we both know you don't mean that. Did you listen to a single thing I said earlier?"  
  
"No, I didn't. I couldn't hear anything beside a jumble of sound that didn't make any sense to me."  
  
"Yeah, and that doesn't make any sense to me. I would think someone like you could come up with a better excuse then that."  
  
Harry didn't know what to say to her still. "I haven't been sleeping well, because of what happened," Harry said lamely. "I haven't slept more the four hours each night. Four nightmare-filled hours. I see Cedric die, Voldemort come back, and I see him kill all my friends!"  
  
"You're not asleep, Harry. You should be able to listen to someone when they talk to you. You're not having any trouble now. So why then Harry, what happened?"  
  
"Can we just drop this?" Harry asked her. He was tired and he didn't want to be sitting outside in the cold. And he really didn't want to explain about Cedric.  
  
"We can't just drop it Harry. I meant what I said!"  
  
"I don't know what you said! Can you just tell me again?" Harry was getting frustrated with her.  
  
"No!" she snarled at him. Harry got the sudden impulse to back away from her. "Maybe if you had apologized to me instead of lying to me!" Ginny was red in the face and breathing hard. She jumped off the bench and walked away from him, her back straight and her cloak billowing out behind her.  
  
"I'm sorry! I really am, Ginny," Harry yelled after her. Harry wasn't sure if she heard him, but her steps faltered and she shook her head, her hair rippling across her back with the movement. It looked like she was going to turn around, but instead she put her hand up to her face. Harry suspected that she had just brushed a tear away.  
  
Harry sat on the bench long after Ginny had disappeared back inside The Burrow. He was glad, for once, of the dark that pushed in on him trying to swallow him. Harry was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't hear the swish of the cloak as someone sat down next to him.  
  
Harry sat oblivious to the person next to him for five minutes; he would have sat there longer if the other hadn't started to talk. "Harry do you want to talk about it?"  
  
Harry gave a start when the soft voice broke into his thoughts. Harry looked up, saying "Professor Dumbledore what are you doing here, Sir?"  
  
"Well Harry, is this not the day that your friends, family and the people who care about you honor the day that you were born? Am I right in thinking that you didn't expect any of your professors to come to your birthday party?" He smiled down at Harry, but his smile faltered upon seeing how tired and rundown Harry looked. Dumbledore flicked his wand and two pieces of yellow cake appeared out of thin air. "Cake Harry?" He handed one piece to Harry and conjured two forks with another flick of his wand. They ate in silence for a while, just enjoying the night.  
  
"So, Harry I heard that the Weasleys came and rescued you from the Dursleys. Do you want to talk about that, or about anything else?"  
  
Harry took a deep breath and stared talking. He talked about how he hadn't slept through the night for months. He talked about what his Aunt had told him. He talked about his flight to the Burrow, and about Sirius, Cho, Ron, and his troubles with Ginny, and even Hermione's strange behavior. He went through the whole story of what had happened between Ginny and himself, including Cedric's visitation. He told Dumbledore what Cedric had said to him, and how he didn't know how to forgive himself.  
  
"This is the best birthday ever, but it's all falling apart. Better than any the Dursleys gave me, that's for sure," Harry said, feeling really pitiful.  
  
Dumbledore looked down at him. "Well I see. You have had quite a day Harry, but you should know that everybody is here for you, even ghosts. You should know that Cedric's words are true, nobody blames you. Do try and remember that.  
  
"I'll try to keep a close eye on Hermione if that will make you feel any better. But now Harry, I think it is time to go back. Everybody is missing us. Although they might just be wanting some of your chocolate cake. Come along Harry," said Dumbledore. He stood up, lighting his wand to lead the way.  
  
Harry got up slowly and stumbled along behind him. He hadn't realized just how tired he really was. He was exhausted. Every step felt like his legs were made of lead, and his eyelids kept trying to flicker shut of their own accord.  
  
When they walked back into the house it erupted with cheers. Harry looked around and grinned to see all the people he cared about smiling back at him. Dumbledore led him up to the front of the living room to stand behind his cake, which was huge and had an amazingly accurate likeness of Harry catching the snitch on it.  
  
Dumbledore waited for the room to quiet down before he started to talk. "Welcome to Harry's birthday party! Now why is it I see people from all the houses but Slytherin?" He smiled around at all the people there. Harry did too. Dumbledore was speaking again.  
  
"I think it's about high time we sing to Harry. Shall I conduct the song?" He waved his wand and music notes came out of it with lyrics floating underneath. Dumbledore started singing, but it wasn't the "Happy Birthday" song.  
  
'Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,  
  
Teach us something please  
  
Whether we be old and bald... '  
  
"Oh dear me, wrong song." He flicked his wand again and this time the correct music lines came out of it. Harry wasn't listening; he was thinking about the school song. The last line made him think of Petunia coming to Hogwarts.  
  
When the song had finished Harry blew out the candles, made a wish for a normal school year, and started to cut the cake. He took the piece with the golden snitch on it. He walked around as he ate, mingling with his friends. They talked about the coming school year, the Quidditch season and of course new ways to get the Slytherins and Snape.  
  
"So I wondered who is going to be our Defense against the Dark Arts professor," said Harry through a mouth full of rich chocolate cake.  
  
"Yeah, who or what, you mean Harry," said Neville joining the conversation. They talked away about this and that. Harry was slowly forgetting about Ginny and Cedric. Ginny wasn't anywhere around, or Hermione for that matter.  
  
He was about to point out Hermione's absence to Ron, but no sooner had he opened his mouth to do so than she was she standing in front of him. "Hello Hermione," Harry said above the noise from the party.  
  
"You're here finally! I was wondering when you were going to come. It's so good to see you again!" She tossed her arms around his neck in a tight embrace.  
  
Harry was taken aback by her second warm welcome. He pulled away from her so he could look her in the face. "Hermione," he said slowly, "I've been here for the longest time. You've already said hello to me. Are you all right?"  
  
Harry watched as her happy exterior melted away. She withdrew her arms from him, but didn't move away; they were still touching. Harry moved back but she closed the distance. "Why does everybody keep asking me that? I'm fine, I couldn't be any better!" she hissed at Harry.  
  
"You just seem a little off, and we're worried about you." She was making Harry very anxious.  
  
She scoffed at him. A smirk played on her face and a gleam sparked in her eyes. "I'm touched, Harry, that you're worried about me." Sarcasm oozed from her words. "Nice to know you can get away from your fan club long enough to pay attention to me."  
  
"What do you mean by that, Hermione?" Her words had stung. When had he ever been too busy for her and Ron? He asked her just that.  
  
"You, Ron, Ginny, my parents, who has time for me? All of you think I've gone mad, maybe you haven't noticed that you're the ones who have changed."  
  
"No one has changed Hermione, Ron and I are how we've always been. We're worried about you."  
  
Hermione laughed at him. She touched his forearm, letting her fingers linger there. Harry looked at her hand. A flash of red over Hermione's head caught his eye. Ron was watching them. His eyes moved from Hermione's hand up to look Harry in the eye. His eyebrows were knitted together. Harry was relieved to see he wasn't mad; the look on his face was the same one he wore when he was writing an essay for McGonagall. Like he was working something out…  
  
Hermione's eyes were traveling over his body, making Harry very uncomfortable. Her voice was low when she spoke, "I think there is more to it than that, Harry."  
  
Harry swallowed. He took her hand off his arm and made to drop her hand by her side but her fingers had closed around his. "Hermione? What are you doing?"  
  
She leaned in closer to him, standing on tiptoes. Her mouth was next to his ear. She still had his hand in hers, and her other hand was resting on his chest. He attempted to pull away from her but she moved closer. "I think it was you Harry." Her words reached his ear like a hiss.  
  
"Wha-what was me?" he stuttered. Her grip on his fingers was uncannily strong.  
  
"You killed him, Harry." Her voice was still a hiss. Her breath wafted across his ear and stirred his hair; a shiver ran up his spine. "You killed Cedric." Harry stumbled backwards as if he'd been pushed, which any onlooker might have assumed had happened considering the way Hermione grimaced at him. She wiped her hands on her robes, like she had something foul on them.  
  
"You know I didn't! I-"  
  
"-only know what you've told us. Maybe you lied to me, to everyone." She turned to run away, but Harry grabbed her by the arm. He spun her around to look at him.  
  
"It was all a game to you before wasn't it?" Harry growled at her, "finding the stone, surviving the basilisk, facing Sirius, that was all fun for you until somebody died. I can't understand you Hermione!"  
  
"You don't understand what it's like to be your friend, how much worry comes with it." Hermione looked close to tears.  
  
Ron was still hovering behind her, listening to everything, and watching every movement that Harry and Hermione made. He seemed to be scanning the crowd of people, looking for someone. When he didn't find who he was looking for, his eyes settled back on Harry and Hermione.  
  
"You don't think I've thought about that? Every night when I'm plagued by nightmares? Nightmares where I see you die?" Harry bellowed at her above the noise of the party. "You're the one who can't understand what it is like to have two friends that you care about more than anything, more than my own life. If you don't know that, then I don't think you know who I am."  
  
"Maybe you're right, maybe you're not, but I know more about you than you do. Perhaps I wish that troll had finished me off." Ron was beside her now.  
  
"Don't say that, Hermione." Ron reached for her, touching her arm lightly, but she brushed him off. "We need you. You're the one that holds us together, you hold me together."  
  
Hermione scoffed at him. "You need my homework. I'm just a talking book to you two."  
  
Ron stared at her. "You don't mean that," he said. Harry was waiting for him to blow up, to stomp away mad and not talk to Hermione for months, but what he did was worse. He didn't say anything more to her, just turned and retreated to the other side of the room. Harry watched him leave.  
  
"Come off it Hermione. I don't know what's wrong with you, but you've got to knock it off. We haven't done anything to you."  
  
"Right," drawled Hermione, "because being friends with the two of you is just a breeze. Ron's always yelling at me, and being your friend is like hanging 'round a time bomb."  
  
"Do you regret becoming our friend? Is that what this is all about?" Harry was livid; it was all he could do to not lose it. "Maybe I should have made friends with Malfoy when I had the chance. Let him corrupt me, and give him the power he wants."  
  
"You don't have any real power Harry. You need smarts to get power." She touched his arm again. Her breath tickled his neck, her mouth was so close to his ear. Her hand was on his leg, slowly moving up. Harry was having a hard time controlling himself as her fingers danced across his leg. He pulled her hand away from his thigh.  
  
"Stop it Hermione," he growled at her. "I'm sick of your mind games."  
  
She pulled back to look at him, and smiled. "I've got more games." She licked her lips, and her smile grew. "So, you see me die in your dreams? Is it a slow painful death or do you just wave your wand, say the words and get on with it?"  
  
Harry's throat went dry. "Why do you think I'm the one who-" he finished in a whisper, not audible above the music, "kills you?" He wasn't about to tell her about his nightmares, not after what she had said to him.  
  
"That's right, you don't have the gall to harm anyone," she sneered at him, "you would just stand by and watch."  
  
Harry had had it. "Why don't you go back home were you belong, Mudblood!" Harry yelled at her, but the second the words flew from his mouth he wanted to snatch them out of the air. He saw Ron moving throw the crowd, he was glaring at Harry. It was like he had radar for any insult aimed at Hermione.  
  
Harry wasn't expecting the smile that slid onto her face. She looked deranged with her hair bushing out behind her, her eyes were wide and staring, and that smile. Nor was he expecting Hermione's next move. Hermione slapped him upside the face, three times before Ron grabbed her slender wrist. Harry staggered backwards from the force of the blows, his hand holding his stinging face. His glasses had been knocked to the floor, and he almost crushed them.  
  
"How dare you say that to me Harry," she hissed at him. Tears streaked down her face. The tears were so different from the crazed look that had been on her face before she had hit him. She was struggling against Ron, trying to go at Harry again. Ron held her tight.  
  
"I'm going to go up to bed now," Harry said. He pushed pass Ron and Hermione. Ron was gawking at him. Harry half-hoped that Ron would stop him from leaving and force them to apologize. As he brushed by Hermione she lunged for him, but couldn't reach him.  
  
"The rise and Fall of Dark Lords, read it Harry. You will find some answers to questions you don't even know yet!" Hermione's voice shook in anger and had a very deadly sound to it as she yelled after him. He wasn't sure what she was going on about.  
  
Harry pushed by more people while holding onto his stinging cheek. Most people moved out of his way but one dance couple was too wrapped up in each other to notice Harry. He didn't notice them until he ran into them. He turned to say sorry and saw Colin holding onto Ginny so she wouldn't lose her balance. "Sorry about that," he mumbled, his top lip still numb from Hermione's stinging slap.  
  
He caught a glimpse of Ron holding onto Hermione saying comforting words to her. She had stopped fighting him and was now crying into his shirt; Harry could see her shoulders move back and forth. "I'm really sorry," Harry said vaguely, not really talking to Ginny and Colin.  
  
"Harry, I'm..." Ginny started to say as she reached out to touch him. "Oh my god Harry, what happened to your face?" Ginny dragged Harry's hand away from his face.  
  
"Oh that." Harry tried to wave her away without telling her what had happened. "It's nothing really." He knew enough not to say he ran into a door, that line never worked for anyone.  
  
"Now if you would excuse me, I'm going to bed. Goodnight Ginny. Colin." Harry walked off leaving them staring after him. Harry heard Colin say, "That was odd."  
  
Harry made his way to the stairs. A few steps up he looked back over the throng of people. Hermione and Fred - Harry was almost sure it was Fred - were dancing to the music. Hermione was laughing at something Fred had said. She didn't look like someone who had just had a row with one of her best friends.  
  
Harry didn't like her sudden change of attitude, it wasn't right. He muttered to himself as he climbed the many flights of stairs to Ron's room. As he opened the door he saw Sirius pick his head up of from his front paws. "Don't bother changing forms, Sirius, I just want to go to bed. So if you don't mind…" Sirius left the room. Harry closed the door after him.  
  
Harry turned out the lights, letting the darkness press in on him. It wasn't a very welcoming blackness, but then it never was nowadays. He heard Sirius come back into the room. Harry could feel Sirius's eyes on him. He lay down on the cot that had become familiar from past visits to The Burrow, but he couldn't fall asleep. When Harry finally dropped off into a very deep and fitful sleep, he had the same nightmares that he had every night.  
  
He saw Voldemort destroy Hogwarts and kill everyone there except for the Slytherins. Hermione's voice drifted through his dream, "I told you!" she shrieked at him. "Didn't I tell you you were the one who killed me! I thought you were supposed to kill that evil twit of a Dark Lord. You failed us, Harry. You didn't kill him, Harry! It's all your fault!" Her voice was ghostly and high pitched. The ghostly forms of his friends were surrounding him, telling him it was his fault, yelling at him as they pushed closer.  
  
"You picked the losing side Potter!" Draco's voice was right next to him. Draco was smiling at what had happened. Then with a piercing scream, that Harry recognized as his own, Draco turned into Voldemort. "It's all your fault, Potter!" he kept chanting. The dream started to fade leaving Harry in darkness with Voldemort's red eyes boring into him as he kept chanting. He heard another voice join Voldemort's; Harry recognized it as Hermione's. She sent the killing curse hurtling at him. He could still see Voldemort's red eyes through the green light that crashed down on him.  
  
"Its not! It's not my fault! I didn't do it, it was you! You killed them. NO! It's not my fault!" Harry said as he got caught in the green light. He felt the air leave him, and he could feel himself falling farther into the green glow. "AAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHH!" Harry yelled. He woke covered in a cold sweat and gripping the front of Ron's robes. Ron had been shaking him trying to get him to wake up.  
  
"Harry what's wrong? You were yelling in your sleep, something about it's not your fault and people dying. Want to talk about it?" Ron looked down at Harry who was shaking and pale. He had concern written all over his face, it showed in his eyes and laced his words.  
  
"Oh sure, the nightmare. It was the usual. Voldemort coming after me, killing everyone at Hogwarts except Malfoy, the Slytherins and me. Malfoy turning into Voldemort and then Hermione killing me. Cedric telling me it was my fault that he died. Just everyday stuff," Harry said dryly, knowing only too well how true that was.  
  
Ron looked horror-stricken. "That's not funny Harry."  
  
"I never said that it was Ron," he snapped back, "or I wouldn't be sitting here scared out of my wits." Sirius put his hand on his shoulder causing him to jump in fright.  
  
"Harry have you told Dumbledore about these dreams, because I want you to, or I could."  
  
"This one's new. I told him about the other ones, where I'm in the graveyard," Harry said, as his heart rate finally started to slow down. He let go of the front of Ron's robes. Ron looked relieved to get be getting away from Harry. He sat on his own bed watching Harry.  
  
"I'm going to talk to him. I want you to try to go to sleep Harry. Goodnight Ron. Harry," said Sirius. With a small "pop" he was dog again.  
  
"Well goodnight Ron. I hope I don't wake you up again," Harry said. He didn't really believe that he would be able to sleep, but he didn't want to talk to Ron. He didn't want to do anything that had to do with Ron, Hermione or Ginny.  
  
"You didn't wake me. The party just ended. Goodnight then," Ron said as he climbed into his bed already forgetting Harry's nightmare. It didn't take long for Ron's steady breathing to fill the darkness.  
  
Harry looked at the digital clock on Ron's nightstand; a present Harry had bought him from a muggle shop. It read 3:30 A.M. He couldn't believe his party had lasted so long and he had missed so much. Harry's heavy eyelids closed but he didn't fall asleep. He didn't want to, in fear of more dreams. He didn't hear the door to the room crack open or Dumbledore's soft incantation that would give him dreamless sleep. He couldn't fight the sleep that pulled him down.  
  
When Ron woke up the next morning, very late, he didn't wake Harry. All the Weasleys and the remaining party guests who'd spent the night crashed in tents in the Weasley's yard were under Dumbledore's orders not to wake Harry up. They spent the following day and evening tiptoeing around the house.  
  
When Harry did finally wake up it was dark out and Harry had no idea how long he had been sleeping. He glanced at the clock on Ron's nightstand; it was quarter after two in the morning. That gave Harry some idea how long he had been asleep.  
  
He climbed out from beneath the nest of blankets. Cold air rushed around him. This was one of the coldest summers Harry had ever known. Everything in the room was still; he couldn't hear Ron's breathing, or the ghoul in the attic.  
  
Harry had the sudden urge to leave. He wanted to leave all of England behind. He felt like he didn't belong.  
  
Harry took some parchment and a quill from his trunk. He scratched a short note to Mrs. Weasley and at the top he put the time on it. He would later wonder why he had put the time; it was something he did without thinking about it. He changed into the robes he had on during the party. He then grabbed some money from his trunk, his Invisibility Cloak, and from the corner of the room he retrieved his broom, all of which had been moved up to Ron's room while he had slept.  
  
He moved around the room silently gathering the things he needed. He had become an expert at nighttime wanderings. He pulled the cloak tightly around himself and dropped his money bag into a pocket along with his wand. Harry forced open one of the windows in the room and he placed the note on the windowsill, with the quill and ink bottle on top to keep it from blowing away. Below, the garden stretched out; above, the cloudless sky. He jumped out of the window, never noticing the squeak of a rat.  
  
  
  
Author's note: There you have it! The new and improved chapters one and two of my ongoing Harry Potter series. My posting is going to be more regular. I had decided not to update this story until I had redone these chapters. If you want to be notified of future up dates, leave an e-mail in your review.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, or settings in this chapter. 


	2. The Magic Carpet Inn; Part One

Harry Potter; Fifth Year Unchanging  
  
The Magic Carpet Inn; Part One  
  
  
  
Harry fell away into the dark night, the wind rushing through his hair, stinging his eyes, and chilling him to the bone. He watched the ground rushing up to meet him. "1,2,3," he said out loud, and then he climbed on his broom. He was about three feet from the ground before he pulled out of his fall. He rose high above the Burrow, up into the night sky.  
  
Â  Â  The moon was full and Harry wondered vaguely were Professor Lupin was. Harry wanted to get as far away as he could while he still had the light off the moon and the thousands of stars to guide and hide him. He flew flattened to the broom, urging it to go faster. Harry had left his whole life behind him, the land, his friends, and his enemies. As he flew he didn't think about the danger he had just gotten himself into or the risk some people would take at finding him, friend or foe.  
  
Â   
  
* ~*~ *  
  
Â   
  
Â  Â  Ron had just woken up to a cold room; it was colder then usually this morning. It had been colder than the summers before. It was a dark cold that only came with the dark arts. Ron gave an involuntary shiver.  
  
"Why's the damn window open?" he mumbled as he pulled himself out of bed. He crossed the space to the window quickly, noting Harry's empty bed. "'Bout time he got up."  
  
As the curtain danced in the wind, Ron saw the parchment under an eagle-feather quill Hermione gave Harry in his second year. Harry hated that quill. Ron's face paled upon seeing it there. With shaking hands Ron picked up Harry's note. He read the first lines of the note, and ran out of the room.  
  
Â  Â  He burst into the kitchen out of breath and shaking. Albus Dumbledore and Molly Weasley looked up when he came crashing into the room at 7:30 (a very abnormal time for Ron to get up at during the summer).  
  
"Harry- Harry-gone. Left note by window," he panted out in between gasps for air. He handed the letter to Professor Dumbledore. His eyes skimmed its contents before he cleared his throat to read.  
  
Â   
  
"Dear Mrs. Weasley,  
  
Â  Â  I've decided that I can't stay here anymore without the guilt of putting you in danger. I would not be able to live with myself if anything would happen to you or my friends at Hogwarts.  
  
Â  Â  I don't know where I'm going. I'm hoping that a change will help me forget what happened to Cedric. I don't think I will be coming back to Hogwarts when school starts up. Would you please tell my Aunt what happened? She says she knew you when you were a friend of my mum. Say good- bye to the twins, Bill, Charlie, Percy, Mr. Weasley, Professor Dumbledore, and Sirius."  
  
Â   
  
Â  Â  "This isn't good Molly. He could be anywhere by now. This note has the time on it, 2:30 a.m. We need to contact the Ministry, and get a search party going. He can't be to hard to find if he is on foot."  
  
Â  Â  "He's not on foot, he took his broom and Invisibility cloak with him," Ron looked at his mother to see how she was taking it. "Mom don't cry, he'll be back. He left all his stuff." Ron didn't really believe that.  
  
Â  Â  Hermione was standing in the doorway, with a very scared look on her face. Nobody had noticed her standing in her nightdress by the door until she spoke. She sounded far away. Ron thought she must be in shock. "We were all really hard on him, and I shouldn't have gotten so mad at him when he said what he said. I over-reacted, I shouldn't have hit him." Dumbledore and Mrs. Weasley turned to look at her with surprise on their faces.  
  
Â  Â  "You hit him!" Molly snarled at Hermione. "He has been through a lot without his friends turning on him. No wonder he didn't say good-bye to you three." She shot an icy glare at Hermione, Ron, and Ginny as she emerged from her room.  
  
Â  Â  She looked around, and you could see the scene resigster in her mind, and the conclusion dawn on her face. "He's gone isn't he? Harry's gone," she started to cry. She turned on her heel a went back into her room.  
  
Â  Â  "Oh dear, they shouldn't have found out like that, Molly. Ron, did he say or do anything that would tell us were he is going? Anything at all?" said Dumbledore.  
  
Â  Â  "No, he was really upset the other night when he work up from his nightmare," said Ron thinking about that night, wishing he had been there more for his friend.  
  
Â  Â  "Well if he didn't say anything to any of you, I should go tell the Ministry. Dare say that Cornelius will like to know about this," his eyes sparkled as he spoke. "I should disapparate soon. Molly, don't be to hard on them. In fact, maybe you should all try to do something fun and stress free." Molly nodded at him before he disapparated.  
  
Â  Â  "Ron go get the girls please," said Mrs. Weasley making some more tea. Ron went to Hermione's room first. Her door was open slightly. He saw a head of red hair, thinking that it was Ginny he pushed the door open wider. He was shocked to hear Fred's voice in there, mingling with Hermione's sobs.  
  
Â  Â  "Hermione, it's not your fault. Come on, Hermione, smile for me," Fred said in a soothing low voice. He pulled her in and hugged her to him, stroking her hair.  
  
Â  Â  "I can't Fred. I feel too guilty. It's just...it's...oh I don't see how I can fix it," she said in a small voice that keep breaking.  
  
It seemed to Ron that she couldn't find the right words to say. Ron couldn't believe what he was seeing as Fred pulled Hermione closer and kissed her. Fred kissed her on the forehead and moved down to her lips. He kissed her deeply and Hermione returned the kiss with just as much passion. Ron got the distinct impression that this wasn't the first time they kissed like that.  
  
Â  Â  Someone gently touched Ron's arm, bring redness to his ears for being caught spying on Fred and Hermione. "Ron, I don't think you should be watching this. It's not right. Come on," Ginny took him by the arm and pulled him away from the door, they went back to the kitchen.  
  
Â  Â  "Where's Hermione, Ron?" asked Mrs. Weasley, putt plates of bacon, pancakes, toast, eggs, and tea on the table for them. Ron told her about Fred and Hermione, earning himself a sharp kick in the shin from Ginny. "Fred is two years older then her. She will have to start dating guys her age or she will get a bad reputation." Mrs. Weasley rushed away to get Hermione. They heard Mrs. Weasley knock on the door, and shoe Fred out of the room.  
  
Â  Â  Ron and Ginny sat at the table, not speaking or eating their food, just thinking. They were lost in thought, wondering where Harry was, if he was okay, and how long he would stay that way. When he heard feet coming down the hall he pulled out of his thoughts. He saw Hermione following Mrs. Weasley.  
  
Â  Â  "Come on eat, we have a busy day. We are going to Diagon Alley to buy supplies. The girls are going to get their hair done, and Ron you are going to hang out at there until we are done. I'll give you some extra money to buy something," said Mrs. Weasley.  
  
Â  Â  "Really mum?" said Ginny with a squeal of delight. "Oh I will just love to get my hair done! Oh no, I don't know what to do with it!"  
  
Â  Â  "I'll help you think of something Ginny. Oh this is so exciting, I've never had my hair done by a professional much less a witch," Hermione said with a wishful look on her face. One could almost see the ideas for her hair forming in her head. "Lets hurry and eat so we can plan what to do with our hair."  
  
Â  Â  They ate in high speed, inhaling their food and slurping their tea. When they finished, they pushed in their chairs and ran towards Ginny's room. Mrs. Weasley called after them telling them when they had to be ready to leave. Ron had hardly eaten his food; he couldn't believe that they were going to have a day out when Harry was missing.  
  
Â  Â  "Oh Ron," said Mrs. Weasley sensing his unease. "Harry's fine. He just needs a day to himself, that's all. He'll be home soon."  
  
Â  Â  "What if he's not okay, mum? What if he's already hurt, or in trouble? How would you feel to know that when you were out getting you hair done, the Death Eaters had gotten him?"  
  
Â  Â  "Ron, don't you talk to me like that. You are going to come to Diagon Alley with us and the twins to buy your new school things."  
  
Â  Â  "Fine, I'll come!" Ron got up and pushed his chair into the table, making the tea slop out of the teacups. Ron ran up the stairs, making more noise then needed. George opened the door to his room as Ron reached it.  
  
Â  Â  "What's da matter?" asked a very groggy George. His hair was tussled from sleep, and his eyes were puffy from lack of it. "Why all the shouting and the stomping?"  
  
Â  Â  "Oh nothing. Harry ran away, Mum thinks we should go shopping, and the girls are going to get their hair done," said Ron, thinking about how much he sounded like Harry when he was upset after his nightmare.  
  
Â  Â  "Oh. Okay then." George went back into his room and closed the door. A second later the door ripped open and George stood there fully awake. "Harry's gone? Where did he go?"  
  
Â  Â  "Don't know, but anyway you need to get ready to go to Diagon Alley. We're leaving at nine o'clock," said Ron.  
  
He continued up the stairs to his attic room. Once there, he dug around his room for his school list. When he found it, he flopped onto his bed to look it over, hoping that dress robes wouldn't be on the list.  
  
Â  Â  "Agh, not dress robes again," Ron moaned remembering the Yule Ball. Ron read his school list over and over wondering if he should get Harry his things. The letter Harry wrote came floating back to his mind. 'I don't think I will be coming back to Hogwarts when it starts back up.' Ron didn't see the point in getting his things if he had all ready decided that he wasn't coming back, but then again September first was a long ways off.  
  
Â  Â  Ron must have read over his letter for longer then he realized because Hermione was knocking on the door, trying to get an answer out of him. When her knuckles started to hurt she pushed the door open and saw him starring at the letter in his hand.  
  
Â  Â  "Ron?" she said softly. "We are all worried about Harry, but he'll be back. Dumbledore came back, he think it's a good idea for us to go out. He thinks Harry will be back tomorrow."  
  
Â  Â  "Does he Hermione?" he asked, she nodded her head in reply. "Or is he just saying that? Harry's never acted like this before, maybe he's cracked, broken down. Do you realize that someone has tried to kill him ever year of his life once he was eleven? Don't you think that can ware on someone, even the great Harry Potter?" Ron was speaking in monotone not really thinking about what he was saying.  
  
Â  Â  "Is that what this is about Ron? Are you jealous of Harry again? Do be reasonable! He hates the attention as much as you do," Hermione replied.  
  
Â  Â  "No Hermione! I'm not jealous of Harry. I'm worried about him. While everyone else is too excited about getting their hair done or buying new jokes, or whatever, I'm worried about him. It's seems that I'm the only one who cares." Ron got up and left the room, he went down the stairs, took a pinch of Floo powder, and tossed it in the fire. "Diagon Alley" he yelled as the fire ate him up.  
  
Â  Â  "Where does he think he's going? We weren't going to leave for another twenty minutes," said his mum. Ron twisted around to see Fred reach into the Floo powered pouch, and then The Burrow vanished. Ron leaned on the floor with a thump.  
  
Â  Â  "Ugh," he said as the wind was knocked out of him. When he had gotten his breath back he stood up and brushed the shoot off of himself. He moved away from the fireplace just in time, for Fred tumbled out and on to the floor. He helped Fred up and out of the way. Hermione came next. She almost made it with out falling, but tipped on a lose rock. Fred raced forward as Hermione let out a small scream. Fred caught her in his arms, and almost to quick for Ron to see, he kissed her on the cheek. Ron wasn't really sure if Fred did kiss her, so he didn't say anything.  
  
The rest of the Weasleys came through the fireplace without anything happening. They made plans of when and where to meet. Mrs. Weasley gave Ron and the twins some money to buy their schoolbooks and some extra to spend on themselves or save. Mrs. Weasley and the girls went to the hairdressers. Ron didn't even know there was a place like that in Diagon Alley. Ron went to Flourish and Blotts, while the twins went to Gambol and Japes Wizarding Joke Shop to stock up on new jokes.  
  
Â  Â  When Ron entered Flourish and Blotts, he saw some Hogwarts students getting in some early shopping. Ron doubted that anyone knew that Harry was missing, but he was wrong; he hadn't seen the latest copy of the Daily Prophet. He walked down the dusty, crowded, and dimly lit rows of books. He pulled out his list of books and read it out loud.  
  
Â  Â  "The Standard Book of Spells: grade five, Advanced Magical Drafts and Potions, Advance Magical Guide to Transfiguration, Monster Book of Monsters: two, and The Inner Eye," Ron looked at the author of The Inner Eye and gasped "Professor Trelawney wrote a book! Oh, this has to be filled with rubbish."  
  
Â  Â  "I know, who would think the old bat could write a book?" said Hannah Abbott holding a copy out to Ron.  
  
Â  Â  "Hi, Hannah," said Ron taking the book she was giving him.  
  
Â  Â  "It says here that it has everything you need to know to pass the O.W.L.s for her exam. Well I would hope the book would cover what's on the exam," she smiled up at him. They talked as they made their way around the cramped story as they got their books.  
  
Â  Â  "All I have left is Monster Book of Monsters: Two. What about you?" Ron asked Hannah.  
  
Â  Â  "Mmm me too, I also need 'Ancient Runes and What to do With Them," she said consulting her list again.  
  
Â  Â  "You're taking an extra class? How do you do that?" he asked.  
  
Â  Â  "Well there is enough room in the schedule for three extra classes," she flashed him a smile and they continued to walk to the front of the store where there were cages of Monster Books. "Excuse me, sir," Hannah said to one of the store clerks. "We need two copies of The Monster Book Of Monsters: Two."  
  
Â  Â  The man looked horror stricken at the thought of having to get two copies of the biting book. Ron couldn't help grinning as the man put on a pair of thick dragon hide gloves that went up to his elbows. He went over to the cages and opened one up, and using a walking stick, he got one of the books to bite it. He pulled the stick out and shook it until the book fell to the floor. The man repeated this process to get the second book out, by now Ron was doubled up in silent laughter.  
  
Â  Â  "What's so funning, Ron?" Hannah hissed at him.  
  
Â  Â  "He doesn't know there is an easier way to get these books," Ron hissed back to her, trying not to laugh out loud. "Er- excuse me Sir, but there is an easier way to handle those books-"  
  
Â  Â  "There isn't! They would have told us if there was. Now please I have others to wait on if there is nothing else you need."  
  
Â  Â  "Wait I'll show you," Ron stooped down and picked up on of the books. Before it could bit him he stroked it's spine. The book gave a quiver and lay open in his hand. "All you have to do is stroke it's spine, and it'll give you no problems."  
  
Â  Â  "Oh thank you so much!" the man rushed forward and hugged Ron. Ron felt his face burn red. "Sorry, sir," the clerk said when he had regained his composer and let Ron go. "Your books and the lady's books are on the house. Come along, I just have to write up a list of your books. Do you have all the books you need?"  
  
Â  Â  "I still need 'Ancient Runes and What to do With Them.' That's the only one I'm missing," said Hannah  
  
Â  Â  "Ah yes. A very good book, that one is," he said. He flagged down another store clerk and told him what book to get and to bring it to him in the main office. Then he motioned Ron and Hannah to follow him. He led him down twisting rows of books to the very back of the store. He knocked on the door, and when a stern sounding voice replied he opened a door and bowed them inside.  
  
Â  Â  Inside was a brightly light, dust free office. A little man, who looked surprisingly like Professor Flitwick, was sitting behind a grand desk. "Yes, Patrick?" he asked without looking up from his paperwork, as he continued scribbling away on a piece of parchment.  
  
Â  Â  "Well the young man here solved our problem that we were having with the 'Monster Books of Monsters' and I thought we should do something for them." Patrick said shifted nervously from foot to foot, like he did something wrong.  
  
Â  Â  "Ahh how did they manage that?" he said grinning up at them. The store clerk gave a small sigh of relief. He went through the story, and the manager nodded his approvement.  
  
Â  Â  "I see. I think they should get their books on the house. Yes that seems fair. Those books have been a nightmare, but the professor refuses to use another book. Just give me the books that you need and I'll put this down in my records," there was another knock on the door. "Come in."  
  
Â  Â  "I have the young lady's book," said the other store clerk when he entered the office. He put the book on the desk and backed out of the room. Ron got the impression that everybody was a little bit scared of the manager.  
  
The manager took the book and added it to his list. "Well that seems to be in order. Thank you for your help. Good day to you all," he said as he handed the stack of books to Patrick.  
  
Â  Â  "Thank you Mr. Blotts." said Patrick. Ron looked at Hannah and raised his eyebrows in surprise of meeting Mr. Blotts; this action sent her into a fit of giggles. When they were back at the front of the store Patrick put their books in two big bags and handed them their books.  
  
Â  Â  They emerge out of the store and blinked in the bright sunlight. The sun was high overhead now. Ron looked at his watch and gasped. "We've been in there for hours. Its already noon."  
  
Â  Â  "What! Oh no I was suppose to meet my mom at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor fifteen minutes ago. I've got to go Ron I'll see you on the train!" Hannah stood on her toes and gave Ron a quick kiss on the check and whispered in his ear. "I had fun with you." She was gone before Ron could say anything, lost in the crowd of people. Ron thought he saw her blonde hair, but wasn't sure.  
  
Â  Â  He walked around buying what he needed: quills, parchment, some jokes, and refills for his potion kit. He ran into some friends for school, but his mind was still on Hannah, mostly on what that kiss meant to her.  
  
Â  Â  Ron went into Eeylops Owl Emporium to get Pig some more owl treats. He was looking at all the different owls in their cages. Their big amber eyes followed him unblinkingly, giving him the creeps. He stopped in front of a cage that had a snowy owl that looked just like Hedwig. "That's it! I know how to find him!" Ron yelled when a plan for finding Harry came to him. As he ran out of the store, he gained many strange looks from the other shoppers. He left without the owl treats for Pig. He ran down the crowded street to the Leaky Cauldron. Ron had intended to get a butterbeer, but he had lost track of time somewhere between the bookstore and where he was now.  
  
Â  Â  He came bursting into the Leaky Cauldron and stopped died. There was the prettiest girl Ron had ever seen. She had shiny brown hair with a touch of gold that shined in the sun that was filtering through the dingy window. She was the perfect height for a girl. He felt his jaw drop when he realized that she was talking to his sister, who looked too grown up to be his little sister. The girl turned to face Ron and his jaw hit the ground. Hermione was waving at him. Ginny was doubled up in laughter that she couldn't hide.  
  
Â  Â  "Ron Weasley were have you been?" his mum came up form behind Ron, swing her purse manacling. "You are twenty five minutes late. I was so worried."  
  
Â  Â  "Sorry mum, I lost track of time." he said to his mum and turned back to Hermione and Ginny. "You look great Hermione," he said, Ginny gave him a deadly look that dared him not to say anything nice to her. "You look too grown up, Ginny, but your hair looks nice all the same."  
  
Â  Â  "Thank you," they said at the same time. Hermione blushed a deep shade of red when Ron didn't stop gawking at her.  
  
Â  Â  "Okay, time to go back. It's late," said Mrs. Weasley. "I hope you didn't forget anything, because we wouldn't be coming back." She handed the Floo powder to everyone in turn as they went through the fireplace.  
  
Ron waited on the other side for Hermione to come out of the fireplace. "Hermione I need to talk to you. Come up to my room." She nodded her head and followed him up the stairs to his small room. They sat there for a moment before ether on spoke.  
  
Â  Â  "Yes Ron?" asked Hermione. Her face looked very clouded and she wasn't focusing on anything.  
  
Â  Â  "Is there something wrong Hermione?"  
  
Â  Â  "Why did Hannah Abbot kiss you?" Hermione didn't look at Ron as she asked him, but she couldn't hide the redness coming into her face.  
  
Â  Â  "How'd you find out about that?" Ron felt a little guilty even though he didn't do anything wrong.  
  
Â  Â  "Lavender Brown told me when she came in to get her hair done, Padma told Parvati who told Lavender. Did that make sense?" Without waiting for a reply for Ron she plunge on again. "Good. Now what was so important?"  
  
Â  Â  "Hold on a sec, the schools three biggest gossips know about that." Hermione just nodded. She still hadn't looked at Ron. "It will be all over the school before the welcoming feast begins.  
  
Â  Â  "Anyway I think I have away to find Harry," he paused to give Hermione a chances to react, but he didn't. He was starting to think that nobody cared what happened to Harry. "Well we have Hedwig. We can have her bring a letter to Harry; she'll be able to find him. She has found Sirius before and the Ministry can't do that."  
  
Â  Â  Hermione looked at Ron. She had tears running down her face. When she spoke her voice quivered. "Oh Ron!" she flung her arms around his neck and hugged him hard. He hugged her back, letting her cry on his shoulder. He stroked her soft hair, musing over how good her hair looked straight with gold highlights. She pulled back, but at first Ron was reluctant to let her go. "Speaking of Sirius where is he?" Ron shrugged his shoulders, happy not having him here at the moment. "That's a great idea to find Harry. Do you think Hedwig could find him?"  
  
Â  Â  Before Ron could answer Mrs. Weasley called them down. Ron was glad it was finally dinnertime. He hadn't eaten anything that day, so he was starving. They dashed out of the room and down to the kitchen. Hermione stopped short, making Ron run into her. All the Weasleys were sitting around the table. Mrs. Weasley was the only one standing. Her eyes were flashing and with the long poker that she was holding she pointed to two empty chairs. Ron and Hermione quickly set down. Everyone at the table looked very nervous as Mrs. Weasley walked around the table, holding the poker like a sword. Suddenly she tossed the Daily Prophet to the table.  
  
Â  Â  Seven gasps followed the thud of the paper. On the front page in big bold font were the words: Harry Potter; Missing! Underneath the heading was a short story about what happened and Harry's good-bye letter. "Which one of you gave a reporter the letter Harry wrote?" Mrs. Weasley snarled at them.  
  
Â  Â  Ron noticed the dog under the table, cowering under it to get out of Mrs. Weasley's glare. "Sirius, show yourself!" barked Mrs. Weasley. Sirius came out of under the table and with a small "pop" he was back to his human appearance. Â  Â  "Do you know who gave them Harry's letter?"  
  
Â  Â  "I did, Molly." Dumbledore was back. His eyes weren't twinkling under his half-moon glasses; in fact they showed fear as Mrs. Weasley spun around gripping the poker.  
  
Â  Â  "Professor Dumbledore! I-um-" She lowered her poker and the her eyes lost their angry flash.  
  
Â  Â  "That's quite all right Molly. Now when I was at the Ministry earlier it was brought to my attention that on the night of Harry's birthday, someone used an illegal curse," he paused to look around the table. Hermione gave a frightened squeak. He focused his eyes on Hermione and continued. "Does anyone know anything about this? Did anyone see anyone acting strange, like they were under the Imperius Curse?" He was still looking at Hermione, like he knew something that she didn't.  
  
Â  Â  "Somebody put the Curse on me. I couldn't see who it was. I couldn't fit it. The person had me hit Harry. They wanted me to get him mad, so mad that he would leave." She said all very fast. She had her head down and was wring her hands. When she looked up she had tears rolling down her face.  
  
Â  Â  Nobody spoke for a moment, everyone was looking at Hermione. She was very pale now and shaking with fear. Dumbledore cleared his throat to continue. "Hermione why didn't you say anything when the Curse was lifted?"  
  
Â  Â  "I was scared. He told me that if I told anyone he would use the Cruciatus Curse on me." She was now deathly pale, like she was about to faint. She was breathing short shallow breaths.  
  
Â  Â  "Hermione are you still under the Curse?" Hermione shook her had. "You need to tell us what happened. When the Curse was put on you, what did the person sound like, what did the person say, what did they make you do, and when did the Curse leave? You have to tell us all that you can," said Dumbledore.  
  
Â  Â  Hermione nodded her head and took a deep shuddering breath and told her story. "It was a male's voice that put me under the Curse. I had finished talking to Ginny about Harry. On my way down the hallway, someone grabbed my from behind. I'm sure it was Wormtail, because of the voice and the metal hand he used to muffle my screams. Before he put me under the Curse he told me that if I told anyone, he would torture me. Then he put me under the Curse. He had me get Harry mad and hit him. The Curse went away after I found out that Harry was gone."  
  
"Oh Hermione. My poor dear." Mrs. Weasley came over and hugged Hermione. Hermione cried into her shoulders. Mrs. Weasley stroked her hair and said comforting words in a low voice. When Hermione's sobs died down some she pulled away from Mrs. Weasley.  
  
"I'll start some supper now. Professor Dumbledore would you join us for dinner?" Molly asked. Dumbledore nodded. George went to find an extra chair. Mrs. Weasley hustled around the kitchen making dinner. Hermione slumped onto the table burring her head in her arms. Everyone else sat silent to shocked to say anything.  
  
They eat in silence. As soon as Hermione finished picking at her food she excused herself from the table and went to bed. Ron didn't have much of an appetite anymore and he too went to bed. Not long after he left, everyone else also went to his or her own beds. 


	3. The Magic Carpet Inn; Part Two

1 The Magic Carpet Inn; Part Two  
  
  
  
Harry had flown all morning, but now he was sitting under a tree, in a pile of snow, taking a rest from his breakneck flying. From under his traveling cloak, he pulled a copy of the Daily Prophet. He had stolen it from a very confused carrier owl. He unfolded the paper and started to choke when he saw his name in the headlines. He read the article with anger rushing through his veins.  
  
In the article there was the letter he wrote to Molly Weasley and a quote for Dumbledore and other people at the party. There was nothing from Hermione or the other Weasleys. Harry checked to see who wrote the article and was glade it wasn't by Rita Skeeter.  
  
Harry shoved the paper back into his cloak. He put the Invisibility Cloak back on and was off. He flew fast in a straight line, and every now and then he would pull up on the broom and soar to the sky and plunge back to the ground. He did this until he started to feel sick.  
  
He hoped that he would reach a town before nightfall. Not because he wanted a place to sleep, but he was hungry. He hadn't eaten anything for three days. He flew over a hill and his jaw dropped. A very big and grand town covered in snow was at the foot of the hill. Harry could tell at once that it was a Wizarding town.  
  
Harry landed in a deserted street. He dismounted his broom and took off his Invisibility Cloak. The cold wind got to him, and he shivered without his Invisibility Cloak on. He trudged up the street, looking for a place to get warm.  
  
He saw a joke shop, so he went in and headed to the counter, where a kind- looking man was sitting behind it, smoking a pipe.  
  
"Hello. I was wondering if you could tell me what town I'm in?" Harry said to the man behind the counter.  
  
The man looked Harry up and down. "Aren't you a little young to be traveling on a broom by yourself?" he said, but he didn't pause for Harry to say anything. "Well, anyway, your in Durmstrang; the school is just over there on top of that hill," he pointed to the hill that Harry had flown over.  
  
"Thanks." Harry couldn't believe he had flown so far. "Is there a cheap place that I could stay at?"  
  
    "Sure kid, The Magic Carpet Inn, that's a great place. It looks like it will cost you a fortune, but it won't. It's three buildings past this one, go left when you leave. You can't miss it."  
  
"Thanks. I guess I'll look around for a while. One could always use a good joke." Harry walked up and down the rows of jokes looking at everything. They had some things that Zonko's Joke Shop back at Hogsmead had, but some of the things Harry could have never dreamed up. In the end, he decided not to buy anything.  
  
Harry headed straight to the Magic Carpet Inn; he didn't want to be recognized as the runaway Harry Potter. Upon seeing the Magic Carpet Inn, Harry didn't think he could afford to stay there. It looked more like a castle then an inn. Harry walked closer to the building but couldn't get to close because a wide river separated the Inn's sweeping grounds and the road.  
  
"How am I going to get there, unless I fly my broom?" Harry said to himself.  
  
"And a mighty fine broom it is, boy. You must be a good flyer to have a broom like that or, a very spoiled kid. By the way, the name is Davey Gudgeon, and you are?" Said a rather tall man. He had on very rich robes lined with fur. He had a big scar on his face going form his nose to his ear.  
  
"Er- I'm Neville Longbottom. I play seeker at school and everyone says I'm pretty good." Harry said; this wasn't the first time he has used Neville's name when he was trying to hide.  
  
  "Nah, your not Neville. He can't fly worth anything. I know who you are. Just because you use your bags to try and hide your forehead, doesn't mine we are blind, Harry Potter. Now come on and we'll get you a carpet so you can get to that Inn," said Gudgeon. He started down the road. "So Harry do you want to talk about why you ran away from the Weasley's?"  
  
"Um, I don't want to be rude, but I don't want to talk about it," Harry said to Gudgeon. He wasn't really sure if he trusted this guy. Harry thought that he had heard his name before, but wasn't sure. They had just walked around a bend in the road and Harry saw that there was more to the Inn than you can first see.  
  
"It's okay if you don't want to talk about it. Ahh, here we are. One carpet please, for the boy," said Gudgeon to an elfish-looking man. The elf-man pushed a button and a magic carpet came speeding towards Harry. The carpet stopped right next to him.  
  
    "There you are young Sir. Do not stand on the carpet when it is moving," said the elf men in a very high voice. Harry climbed onto the carpet and it took off with him hardly holding on. The carpet brought him once around the Inn and it proved to be bigger the Hogwarts.  
  
The carpet stopped in front of a pair of heavy oak doors. Another elfish person was at the doors, and this elf looked to be a teenage girl. "Welcome to the Magic Carpet Inn. Please stay seated," she said. She pushed a button and the doors opened to allow Harry inside.  
  
Harry sucked in his breath when he saw how lavish the Inn was decorated. The floor was covered in lush purple carpet with delicate silver and gold patterns. The walls were made of pure white marble with flecks of gold. Harry couldn't see how he could afford to stay in a place this grand. The carpet he was on brought him up to desk with another elf lady behind it.  
  
"Hello. Are you looking for a room or are you here for the Bulgarian Quidditch tryouts?" said the elf lady.  
  
        "Er- both please," Harry's mind was racing who on the Bulgarian team was leaving. "Who's leaving the team?"  
  
"No one, dear. They just need to start training some back-ups. Your room number is 138; the carpet will take you there. That will be five Galleon, three Sickles, and two Knuts," said the elf lady. Harry pulled out his money, paid, and he was off again.  
  
The carpet folded so it had a back for Harry to lean against as the carpet shot straight up through a hole in the ceiling. It leveled off with the doors that were off the floor by at less twenty feet. The carpet sped down the hall, blurring the portraits on the walls. Then without waning the carpet stopped. It had refolded to catch Harry so he wouldn't fly off the front of the carpet.  
  
Harry stood up on the carpet to open the door to room 138. When the carpet went through the door it caused Harry to lose his balance. He fell face first onto the carpet. When he looked up he saw that everything in the room was floating high above the floor. Although everything was floating in the room, nothing seemed to move. It was one of the nicest bedrooms that Harry had ever seen. Harry flew the carpet around the room. He looked out the windows and to his surprise he saw the Bulgarian Quidditch team practicing at the Quidditch pit. Harry watched for a while until a knock at the door brought him back to his senses.  
  
"Come in," Harry said. The door opened and an elf with a food cart on a carpet came inside.  
  
"Dinner time, dear. Take what you what," said the elf lady. Harry took a plate and filled it high with mashed potatoes, gravy, sausages, peas, and Yorkshire pudding. "Don't forget a drink and desserts, dear. If you're still hungry, the plates will refill themselves."  
  
Harry set his dinner plate on the carpet and took another plate and put some treacle tarts on it. He also filled a glass with pumpkin juice.  
  
The elf left and Harry went over to a table in the corner of the room. Once he had sat down he began to eat. The food was so good and he was so hungry. His plate of food didn't last long and he was glad to see it refill. He had fourth helpings on dinner before he started on his dessert. When he had finished he got into bed. He dropped of quickly into sleep.  
  
Harry dreamt about being back at The Burrow. In his dream he wasn't himself, he was evil.  
  
Harry pushed the door open and came into the bedroom. Someone stirred in one of the beds. Ginny Weasley set up in her bed and looked at Harry. She gave a muffled scream upon seeing him.  
  
"What are you doing in here, Harry?" she asked him. Harry turned to look at her, when he fixed her in his gaze she screamed without trying to hide her fear. "What happened to you Harry?"  
  
"If you don't stop making all that noise, Ginny," he pulled out his wand and pointed it at her. He continued to speak in a voice that wasn't his. It was low and snake like. "I'm going to have to curse you. You wouldn't want me to do that, would you?" his eyes flashed, and Ginny started to scream again. "Stupefy!" he hissed. A stream of red light rushed at Ginny who was still screaming. As soon as it hit her she slumped back into her bed.  
  
Harry turned his attention to the other bed in the room. "Hermione?" he hissed into her hair. "Hermione I told you not to tell them what happened. Hermione, wake up!" He brushed his hand over her face. She woke with a start, to find herself looking into Harry's red eyes. He leaned closer to her. "I told you not to tell them, didn't I, Hermione? I told you that nothing would happen to you if you kept your mouth shut, but you couldn't do that, could you Hermione? I also told you that if you told them I would hurt you, didn't I? Answer me Hermione!"  
  
She nodded her head. "What happened to you Harry?"  
  
"Shut up, Hermione. I didn't tell you to ask questions did I? No, I didn't think so!" He was twirling his wand between his fingers. A smile curled the corners of his mouth, but it wasn't a friendly one. He never broke his eye contact with Hermione. "Crucio!" he hissed in a deadly whisper.  
  
Hermione let out a blood-curdling scream. Harry watched her as she folded in on herself. Far off he could hear a dog howling, but he didn't care, not now at least. He knew that dog would get what was coming for it soon enough. He stood there until he heard voices and rushing feet coming his way before he moved. He let the people pouring into the room catch a glimpse of him before fleeing.  
  
Harry woke up with a yell. He was covered in sweat, and shaking. Hermione's screams still rung in his ears, but what he didn't know was miles away back at The Burrow, his dream was coming true. 


	4. The Tryouts; Part One

Harry Potter; Fifth Year Unchanging  
  
The Tryouts; Part Two  
  
"Ou-ou-oooo" Ron woke up with a start, smacking his head on the slopping ceiling. "What the bloody Hell- Sirius shut up your going to wake the whole house!" Sirius didn't stop howling. "You can change if you really want to leave," Ron said.  
  
Sirius came over to him, and he was still howling. He grabbed Ron's hand in his mouth and pulled. Ron scrambled out of the bed as Sirius tugged on his hand. He wasn't biting Ron's hand hard, but it was hard enough. Sirius pulled him to the door. Ron opened it and Sirius continued to pull him down the stairs. Halfway down, he halted and howled again. Ron's heart stopped as he heard a blood-curtailing scream mingling with the dog's howls.  
  
Ron raced down the stairs. He knew that scream anywhere. It was Ginny. He had heard her scream before, but not like this. He jumped the last three steps, almost falling, but he recovered. Sirius flew past him. Ron ran after him, running into chairs and tripping over his own feet, but he didn't fall. He reached the door to Ginny's room while Sirius was sitting outside the door howling.  
  
Move!" Ron yelled at him. He tore the door open and burst into the room. He took in the scene quickly. Ginny was slumped in her bed, and a figure was standing over the now screaming Hermione. The figure turned to Ron as the rest of the Weasleys came pouring into the room.  
  
In the dim light of the room, Ron saw the face of a young person standing over Hermione. Before he could place the face, the stranger was gone. As soon as he had vanished, Hermione stopped screaming. She lay on the bed, not moving. Her hair was fanned out on the pillow. Her face was pale and covered in sweat. She was staring up at the ceiling like there was actually something up there to see.  
  
Hermione," Ron breathed. He rushed over to her. "Hermione?" He reached out to touch her, but she started to shriek and try to hit Ron.  
  
"Don't touch me! Stay away! I don't know who you are," she screamed at the top of her lungs. All the while, she was swatting at Ron.  
  
Ron was hurt; his best friend didn't know who he was. Ron stood there out of her reach as she continued to scream insults at him. "Hermione, its Ron. I won't hurt you."  
  
Someone put a hand on Ron's shoulder, "Come on Ron," said Dumbledore. He guided Ron out of the room and into the kitchen, where the rest of the Weasleys were hovering around Ginny. Ginny was extremely distraught as her mother fussed over her. Molly pushed tea into her daughter's hands and wrapped her tightly in a blanket making it so she couldn't drink the tea. With tears streaming down her pale face and arms pinned to her side Ginny tried to get away from the Weasleys that had surrounded her.  
  
"Mum I'm all right! I'm just a little shook up."  
  
Ron knew his little sister was stronger then she looked. She had lived through being enchanted by Voldemort's sixteen-year-old memory. Sometimes Ron would hear her having a nightmare, and he would sit with her when she would wake up. Somehow she would never remember her dream or talking to him the next day though.  
  
Ron turned to look at Hermione. She was reaching her hand out, and repeating his name. "I want to stay with her. She needs me here." Ron took a step closer to her, and she grabbed his arm. She sunk her nails into his skin causing him to flinch, but he didn't say anything.  
  
"All right Ron, stay with her. Try to keep her clam and talk to her in a quiet voice. I'm going to contact St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, so someone can look at her," Dumbledore said as he swept out of the room. Ron sat down on the bed next to one of his best friends. Moonlight spilled into the room, and across her face, giving her a ghostly air. Her hand was like ice on his arm, and her grip loosened a bit. Ron stroked her soft hair, not knowing what to say to her.  
  
"Hermione," he whispered to her. She looked at him, repeating her name. "Yeah, your Hermione alright. Do you know who I am, Hermione?" she stared at him not saying anything. "I'm Ron Weasley, remember me? We've been friends for about four years. And Harry, we've been his friend too." Hermione continued to stare blankly at him. It hurt Ron for Hermione not to know who he is. Ron told her about their four years at Hogwarts. He told her about all the fun they had at Quidditch games and Hogsmeade. He told her about all the good times. He of course left out all the times when they were fighting, the times they got in trouble with Snape, and the times they put themselves in danger to help Harry.  
  
Hermione listened to his stories, but she didn't seem to know that it was her life that Ron was talking about. She seemed to believe that it was all a fairy tale. Ron had heard from his dad about how people who were under the Cruciatus Curse too long, were never the same again. This thought scared him. He didn't know how long Hermione was under the Curse, but anytime was too long.  
  
Dumbledore came back into the room followed by a doctor from St. Mungo's. The doctor was a young wizard with glasses, and a cheerful tan face. He smiled at Ron, who didn't pay them any mind and instead continued to talk to Hermione in a low whisper.  
  
"Ron I think you should leave so Dr. Johnson can look at Hermione," said Dumbledore.  
  
Ron was about to protest when the doctor spoke up, "Albus, let the boy stay. The girl seems to be comforted be him being here," said the doctor gazing ever so quickly at Ron.  
  
Dumbledore was speaking, "Ah yes. You are quite right." The two shared a look and unspoken words seemed to travel between them. The doctor nodded his head as if agreeing with something that Dumbledore had said. Ron stayed in his own little world that consisted of Hermione and himself.  
  
"What can you do for Hermione?" Ron asked. They talked for a while, but Ron wasn't listening. He was slowly drifting off to sleep. He looked down at Hermione, who he was still holding onto. She was asleep and soon, Ron was too.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Harry lay awake, in the milky darkness, fingering his scar. He couldn't fall back to sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he would see Hermione's scared face and hear her screaming. He was trying to recall everything that had happened, everything said, and every action he had made, right down to his twisted smile. He could hear what Ginny and Hermione had said to him. They both were scared by his appearance. His voice in the dream was nothing like it was now. His voice in the dream was low and hissing. He didn't think his dream had anything to do with Voldemort, at least not in the way it usually does. He hadn't been watching Voldemort doing anything. It was like he was Voldemort. He touched his scar again, relieved that it didn't hurt him. Harry was almost sure that if his scar didn't hurt he had just had a bad dream like everybody else, but try as he might, he didn't really believe it.  
  
Harry climbed out of bed and fell to the floor in a heap. There was a tearing sound as his robes ripped "Agh! My only robe!" Harry slowly made it to his feet, and checked out the damage done to his robe. The right arm of his robe had split along the seams. He couldn't wear the robe like that, but he didn't know how to fix it. Harry dug around in his pockets.  
  
All he found was his wand, some money, his Invisibility cloak, candy wrappers, and the hairpins that the twins gave him. He didn't know any spells that would fix rips. Harry didn't remember putting the hairpins in his pockets, but that didn't really matter. He looked at the hairpins again; maybe they would work.  
  
It took him about five minutes before he found a way to close the hole in his sleeve.  
  
Harry called his carpet over. "Good morning," he said to the carpet, which perked up at the sound of his voice. "Great I'm talking to a rug," he muttered to himself low enough so that the carpet couldn't hear him.  
  
He climbed onto the carpet and it flew him to the table. Harry was surprised to see his dinner plate piled high with his favorite breakfast foods. Pancakes covered in maple syrup, eggs, porridge, and toast littered the plate. There was also a copy of The Daily Prophet. Harry read the paper as he ate.  
  
In the Prophet there was an update about him, and how he was still missing. There was a story about dark activity going on. The article talked about five dementors missing from Azkaban and death eaters being caught, but it didn't say anything about Voldemort gaining strength.  
  
Harry was reading the personal ads in the paper, when he finished reading about the dark arts. One sounded a lot like Professor Snape. 'I am looking for a female companion'. To Harry it sounded as though he was looking for a dog, not a date. The ad went on'' I hold a teaching position at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I have sleek, healthy black hair". Harry snorted into his pumpkin juice at this. He doubted that Snape ever had sleek hair. 'I finished fifth in my class'. Harry didn't doubt that. 'I have been an active supporter of the light side'. Yea right! Harry thought at that one. 'I like to read poetry'. Harry was laughing so hard he didn't hear the knock on his door.  
  
An elf lady, the same one that had brought his dinner the other night, came into the room. "Sir, tryouts for Quidditch will be held in twenty minutes," she said as she curtsied and left the room.  
  
Harry folded the paper back up, drank the rest of his juice, and did a quick washing charm before he grabbed his Firebolt. He left on his magic carpet. Harry flew up and down different hallways, and down stairwells without any stairs. The carpet burst through a set of French double doors to reveal the Quidditch pitch that Harry had seen last night.  
  
The air was cold for this time of year, but the seasons were also different this far north. The air stung at Harry's eyes as he flew. He looked around. The stands that were lining the pitch were filled with witches and wizards of all ages. All of them were hoping to get a spot on the reserve team. Harry felt a surge of fear shoot through him at the thought of pushing his skills to there fullest in front of hundreds of people.  
  
The carpet brought Harry over to a row of elves sitting behind tables. Above them was a sign telling everyone to sign up there. The first elf looked him up and down before asking him his name. When Harry told her his name, she looked him up and down again before writing his name at the top of a paper. The carpet moved down the row to the next elf. "Age?"  
  
"Fifteen," said Harry. As he moved down the row he was asked one question from each elf. He answered them all truthfully, thinking that it wouldn't be a good idea to start his Quidditch career as a fraud. The last elf gave him a lengthy test, told him to leave his carpet with the others, and take a seat in the stands to wait for further instructions. All of this Harry did, but he had some trouble making his carpet staying with the others. One of the elves told him it didn't want to stay behind because it had become attached to him.  
  
Harry ended up in the middle of the stands sitting between a trollish looking girl and a sniveling little kid. Harry settled in his seat. Just then he the Bulgarian Quidditch team flying around the pitch. Harry lost himself in the flying of the team and thousands of 'what ifs' about what would happen if he made the team. He wished so much that he were up there.  
  
A movement on the ground brought his attention back to Earth. The people had overflowed onto the pitch. A short, balding man with a mustache covering his cherry face stood in the middle of the pitch. Everyone around Harry, even the littlest kids were clapping, so Harry followed their leads.  
  
"Welcome one and all! On this fine day we, the judges and I, will be selecting seven reserve players. These players will be trained with the Bulgarian team. They will get to travel with the team, and in the misfortunate event that one of the regular players is injured and can no longer play, you will get to take over. You will be taking a test on your knowledge of the game of Quidditch, and your playing abilities. Tryouts will last two days. Today being the first day we will eliminate those of you who are not up to standers. You may begin your test now," said the short man as he left the field.  
  
Harry could hear thousands of quills scratching away as he looked down at the test. At the top was the information he had given the elves: his name, age, broom type, and what position he wanted to play. The first part was fill-in-the-blanks. It was basic Quidditch knowledge. The questions were like how many balls were in play at all times, how many players there was, what each player does, and the purpose of each ball.  
  
The next part was matching the balls to the players who used them. Then you had to match the moves to how you would do them. So far Harry didn't have any trouble with the test. He just wished it wasn't so long. Two pages later Harry had gotten to the part about being a Seeker and the Golden Snitch. Harry was glad that he had read and reread "Quidditch Through The Ages" so many times. The question started out easy, but then there was stuff Harry would never know if he couldn't quote the book word for word.  
  
Harry read over the questions. Some of them were along the lines of:  
  
1. What color is the Golden Snitch?  
  
2. Who catches the Snitch?  
  
The test went on like that getting harder with almost every question. It went on to ask:  
  
52. In 1269 what bird was used before the Golden Snitch?  
  
Harry new it was the Golden Snidget, a small magical bird. Then the test went on to ask:  
  
53. Who introduced the bird to the game and what was the prize for catching it?  
  
Harry didn't have to pause before he wrote down his answer: Burberus Bragge, and one hundred and fifty gold Galleons as the prize.  
  
54. Who invented the Golden Snitch and where?  
  
Harry knew that the Golden Snitch was invented in Godric's Hollow, by Bowman Write. The Boy Who Lived was one of the first to finish his test. When he put down his quill the test disappeared. In a few moments a small folded piece of paper appeared. Harry reached out a hand for the paper, and noticed that his hands were shaking, his stomach felt like lead, and his mind was clouded. He was nervous, but he had felt worse. Harry had been even more nervous when he had to do things that he had never wanted to do. This was a different feeling then facing Voldemort, or a dragon that wanted to kill him though. This feeling was the 'I'm going to win, I know it' feeling.  
  
Harry unfolded the paper to see his name and a percentage scrawled in tight, yet loopy red letters. Harry had gotten a 108% on his test due to the extra credit questions. His nerves settled a bit. Around him more and more people were looking over their test grades. Some of the little kids were upset for some reason. The older ones, who were so sure of themselves, were getting enraged that they had gotten such low-test scores.  
  
Harry had gotten used to the idea of people judging him, but today seemed different, uneasy almost. Harry knew that what ever happened today would shape the rest of his life. If he got a spot on the team, he would probably never go back to Hogwarts. He would transfer to Durmstrang to finish his schooling. Even if he didn't get a spot on the team, he might stay anyway.  
  
Harry sat in a daze, thinking about how wonderful it would be to make the team; he didn't care that it would only be the reserve team. He could see it now: Krum being taken out for the season and Harry, himself leading the team to the World Cup, where they would declare that Harry is to replace Krum forever. He could almost feel himself shoot onto the pitch with his team robes on. He could hear the commenter of the game yell out his name, and the crowd thunder their approval as he flies over to his teammates on the best broom ever made.  
  
Harry was snapped back to the present when the short man cam back to stand in front of the crowd of Quidditch hopefuls. He started to speak to the waiting crowd. "Now that everyone is done with their test, I would like to take this time to introduce the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! Dimitrov! Ivanova! Zograf! Levski! Vulchancv! Volkov! Aaaaand- Krum!" After each named was called, a scarlet clad figure flew around the stands to a roar of approval.  
  
"Everyone should have gotten a slip of paper with your test scores on it," he continued when the crowd of people had settled down. "If you have a piece of paper with a test grade lower then a seventy, or if your paper says that you are to young or too old, I ask of you now to leave the stands. You are welcome to sit in the empty seats across the pitch if you would like to watch."  
  
Hundreds of feet took the weight of their owners and left the stands. Many younger kids were having fits as they left. Harry stayed in his seat, waiting for instructions, while trying to relax and breath.  
  
When the stands were quiet once more, the man cleared his throat, "All of you who are still here, I congratulate you on a job well down!" he started clapping and soon everyone joined in and gave great praise to the people next to them. "Yes it was truly a job well done!" he shouted while grinning at everyone. "I would like you all to stand up, because I'm going to put you in order of your playing position and your test scores. I would like the Seekers in the first rows of seats, then the Chasers. Behind them I would like the Beaters, and lastly the Keepers. There are name tags in order of testing grade."  
  
The remaining people took to their feet and moved to the pathways to move up or down in the stands. Harry headed towards the front of the stands. It was very slow moving with people pushing to go up and down. Harry had to push through a pack of Beaters, only to come face to face with Fred and George. The three stared at each other. No one moved or said anything. Harry could see another redheaded figure moving through the mass of people. Bill Weasley made it to them.  
  
"Harry! What are you doing here?" Bill asked.  
  
"Um... Hi, lovely day, isn't it? Good luck on the tryouts. I've got to go sit down." Harry started to go around them when Fred grabbed his arm.  
  
"Hermione is hurt, Harry," Fred said. Harry looked at him. He could see pain in Fred's eyes, and he could hear desperation in his voice. There was also something else in his voice that made Harry think about what he had said to Hermione at the party. Fred's voice was laced with bitterness, so Harry thought it meant he was mad at him.  
  
"Where's Ron?" Harry asked, deciding to change the subject.  
  
"He was going to come. He was going to try out for Keeper. We had this planned for a few weeks. He went to the hospital with Hermione, Ginny, and mum. He found Hermione upset last night, and he refused to leave her," said George looking down at his feet.  
  
The people behind them started to push, trying to get pass them. Harry let the mob of people sweep him away from the Weasleys. An inner battle was raging in his head and heart. Half of him wanted to go back right now to see hold onto Hermione and see how she was doing. He hated to know that she was hurt. He wanted to beg her to forgive him. He wanted to tell her how stupid he was and that she was right. The other half of him was scared that she wouldn't take his apologies, but that wasn't the only thing keeping him away. That part of him didn't even want to apologize to her. Then there was the idea that Ron and the other Weasleys would hate him. Harry knew how protective Ron could be with Hermione. Those little fears were enough to keep Harry away. It was enough to make him not want to face the people he had hurt. There was also the looming fear of Voldemort attacking. In Harry's head, if Voldemort didn't know where he was then maybe he wouldn't come after him.  
  
Harry flopped into his seat, his head aching. He was going to be one of the first people to fly, but he was ready for anything. He had faced so much on a broom. He was sure he could do whatever they wanted him to do. That was if his nerves would calm down.  
  
Eight people and one empty seat were in front of Harry. He watched them dive, chase after bewitched golf balls, and dodge Bludgers that pelted at their heads. Each person was asked do something different as they flew around the pitch. When they landed the people in the stands cheered them on. Six of the eight people were out of the running, due to big mistakes or poor flying. They were asked to leave the pitch and watch with the spectators.  
  
Sooner then Harry had expected his name was called. He quickly picked up his Firebolt, and made his way on to the pitch. Harry noticed that everybody was trying to get a look at him, and the whispering burst through the crowd, pushing in on Harry as a dull buzz.  
  
"Ah young Harry Potter, glad to see you here. I've heard about your flying skills. Let's see if they are what people say they are," the man said as his voice floated up to the crowd. The crowd was going wild at the thought of Harry doing something deadly in front of them.  
  
"I want you to fly up fifty feet into the air in line with the goals. Then I want you to find this golf ball," he held out his hand revealing a golf ball the same color as the grass that Harry was standing on. "I will also be releasing about twenty other golf balls. Do you think you can do that? Good. Mount your broom and on my whistle you can go."  
  
Harry mounted his broom, not seeing how he could ever do this. He had the feeling that he was going to make a prat out of himself. The whistle blew and Harry took off. He flew higher and higher circling the pitch looking for the golf ball. Looking at the pinpricks of color below him he didn't see any green balls. He saw yellow, red, bright pink and orange, but no green.  
  
Harry looked towards the stands. He scanned them until he saw three redheaded Weasleys grinning up at him. They waved and Harry grinned back. Bill pulled out his wand. He looked around before he changed his robes to yellow. He changed George's robes red and Fred's to green. Then he gave Harry the thumbs up and a Weasley grin. Harry looked at Bill, and so did the twins, not seeing why he had to change the colors of their robes.  
  
Harry looked at the ground and saw a Yellow golf ball, then a blank spot and then a red golf ball. Harry looked back to the Weasleys, and he realized what Bill was trying to tell him. Harry grinned at them and then pointed his broom down. He sped towards the yellow golf ball. He had the broom pointed straight down. Many gasps came from the watching people as he plummeted to the earth. Harry never took his eyes off the golf ball. He was getting closer. The wind stung his eyes, but he couldn't close them, in fear of loosing the golf ball. He was thirty feet, twenty, ten feet, and then two Bludgers flew at him. Harry flew to the side rolling over to avoid being pelted in the stomach by them.  
  
He pointed his broom downward again. He was ten feet away from the ground and didn't see the green golf ball. The wind rushed threw his hair, pushing it from his face. Harry took one hand of the broom, and the handle shook with speed. He was four feet from the ground when he saw the green golf ball hovering two feet above the ground. He stretched his fingers out. They brushed against the surface of a ball. He groped the air until he found it. Closing his hand around the ball, he thrusted his hand up in the air.  
  
Harry looked at his arm, and saw a sliver of green between his fingers. Harry heard the crowd gasp. He was still plummeting towards the ground. Harry tucked his feet up under himself and pulled up on the broom. His toes just barley skimmed the grass. He flew straight with the ground before he was able to soar back up. His broom started to shake again with the sudden change of direction. He had to fight it with one hand, trying to get control.  
  
He could hear the Weasleys yelling and hooting from the crowd, as he flew up and up with his hand still high above his head. Harry gave a loud whoop when he was fifty feet above the ground again. He flew over the stands before he landed right in front of the judges to give them the golf ball.  
  
"Keep it kid," said one of the judges. Harry tucked the golf ball into on of his robe's pockets. With his broom in hand and a wide grin stuck on his face he made his way back to the stands. The stands were quivering with people jumping up and down.  
  
Harry flopped into his seat. His legs were moving on their own, shaking up and down, and he was glad he didn't have to hold himself up any longer. As soon as he sat down a girl to the right of him swooped down on him.  
  
"You were wonderful," she said. She then kissed him on check. "I wish I could fly like that. Oh look they're giving out your score." The judges gave him a perfect score. The girl tried to kiss him again, but Harry ducked out of her reach. His check burned red where her lips had touched his skin.  
  
"Very well done Mr. Potter. You have beaten Mr. Krum's record when he did that three years ago," the man looked positively delighted at the thought of Harry beating a record. Nobody had noticed the help he had gotten from the Weasleys.  
  
Harry lay back in his chair, closing his eyes. He dropped of into a light sleep. A sleep filled with light peaceful dreams. Harry woke with a start when he heard someone screaming. His first thought was that of Hermione. Harry looked around startled, and he saw everyone pointing at the pitch. Harry looked where they were pointing and saw the girl that had kissed him falling. Harry knew she was going to hit the ground.  
  
Her top of the line Cleansweep broom was pointed straight down, but she had no control. She was starting to slip of the front. The handle under her hands was vibrating,  
  
Harry could see her fighting with it while trying to stay on. She was a good twenty feet from the ground. Her robes were flying out behind her, and so was her long cinnamon hair.  
  
The broom quivered, making her lose the grip she had with her feet. She flew over the broom, like you would go over the handle bars of a bike, just holding on with one hand. A foot from the ground she looked away from the hard cold ground. She looked past the midiwizards running towards her, and looked straight at Harry. Their eyes connected for a second before she hit the earth head on. With a sickening crack her broom spilt in half.  
  
Harry looked were her eyes use to be, not wanting to see her lying motionless on the ground. The stands were quiet. The world had stopped for a moment, holding its breath, waiting for a sign to continue. Harry looked down at the girl lying in a heap, and the world shuddered and started again. People started to yell and the midiwizards went to work. The only to people who didn't move was Harry and the girl. He couldn't take his eyes off her as she was taken out of the pitch on a floating stretcher. Harry did manage to stand up and applaud for her. He had seen people on TV do this when someone in a game got hurt and had to be taken off the field. Soon everyone around Harry was standing, and clapping for her.  
  
The tryouts continued, but Harry couldn't think of anything but her pale brown eyes. Her eyes had bored into him, almost like she was trying to tell him not to forget her. He wanted to go back to sleep, but he couldn't. Her cries and Hermione's screams mingled together not letting him relax. Harry spent the time staring blankly at the sky, not watching what was going on around him.  
  
At noon the Seekers and the Chasers had all gone. Tables appeared in front of everyone, fully laid out with fine dishes, and platters full of food. Harry pilled his plate high with food and ate greedily.  
  
He ate in silence like so many other people. A boy a little older then Harry turned towards Harry like he was going to say something, but then he decided against it. Harry ate until he couldn't eat any more. The dishes and the table disappeared when everyone was done, making him homesick for Hogwarts.  
  
The tryouts started again. The Beaters went first. They went in pairs using bats that the judges gave them. They had to defend four large fake birds from Bludgers. There wasn't just two Bludgers; they flew around so fast that you couldn't count them. There were also seven other fake birds that the Beaters had to hit at, just like if they were the other team. Harry got slightly sick watching the Bludgers fly all over the place. The first four teams were eliminated due to the blows that the birds they were defending got. One team had even protected the wrong group of birds. Then it was the Weasley twins' turn.  
  
They flew after the bewitched birds with their bats raised. They hit Bludgers every which way; not letting any of the Bludgers hit their team of birds. Three Bludgers came flying at the bird that was labeled Seeker. George flew towards the bird.  
  
He belted one of the Bludgers towards the other teams Seeker, but he had no time to hit the other two Bludgers that were flying at the bird one behind the other. George flew in front of the bird. "Ophf!" George gasped as the two Bludgers collided with his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. The crowd gave a cry, but George reassured them by swing his bat above his head.  
  
For the rest of the time nothing touched the birds, but Fred and George did have a number of close calls. Harry watched the judges talking amongst themselves. The head of the judges, the man who had done all the talking so far, stood up. He waved his wand and said something that Harry couldn't hear, and the Bludgers all flew back to the waiting crates. He waved his wand again and the birds floated to the ground. Then he motioned for the twins to come back down.  
  
They flew to the ground and the crowd erupted into applause. Harry stood up and waved to them, grinning. They waved back.  
  
"Did ya see that Harry! Didya?" Fred bellowed to Harry.  
  
"You were great, Fred. You too George. Nice block you did with your stomach!" Harry yelled back to them.  
  
"Abbs of steel Harry. That's all you need!" George yelled to Harry. Fred gently punched him in the stomach. Harry could see George wince.  
  
They made their way back up the stands. People were congratulating them as the made their way up to their seats. Bill meet them half way up. He pulled both of them into a tight hug, despite their protesting. The twins returned the embrace. The three made their way back to their seats.  
  
Watching them, Harry felt a stab of jealousy. Bill was beaming with pride at his brothers. Fred and George were grinning, and looked happier than Harry had ever seen them. George was still clutching his stomach, but he didn't seem to mind that much.  
  
It was late in the afternoon when the short man made his way back on the field tryouts were over and everyone was anxious as to what he was going to say. "I would like to congratulate everyone here for a job well done. Those of you still in the running are..." He read off a long list of names and what position they would be trying out for. "For the place of the Beaters, I would like to say on behalf of the other judges that Mr. Fred and George Weasley are the first members of the reserve team. The judges and I have never seen such commitment to the game. Never have we seen Beaters willing to take the hit instead of their teammates," the man announced, smiling at everyone. The stands once again erupted in chaos. Harry twisted around in his seat to see Fred and George. They were bright red, ever brighter then their hair, with Weasley pride.  
  
Later, Harry made his way back to the Inn with the Weasleys.  
  
"Harry, you're coming back with us," Bill said.  
  
Harry looked at them, and they looked back at him. He didn't know how to tell them that he was staying without hurting them more. "I can't go back. I need to finish the tryouts and I-"  
  
Fred interrupted him. "What about Hermione. She's hurt! Don't you know that? When we left, they didn't know how bad she was," Fred was going to continue, but Bill stopped him.  
  
"Well be back here tomorrow. So stay the night if you have to, but you need to come home with us tomorrow. We wouldn't tell anyone about seeing you, but I don't promise that it wouldn't be in the paper. If mum finds out you're here, she'll come up here herself and bring you right back home. Just remember that," Bill said to Harry.  
  
Harry nodded his head and thanked them. He watched them as they used Floo powder to get back to the Burrow after they had all said good-bye. Bill had warned him to stay out of trouble, but George told him to do just the opposite. Harry was sad to see them leave.  
  
Harry climbed onto his carpet that had been following him for awhile now. He flew up to his room, alone. He was glad that he had come. He was sure that a chance to be on the Bulgarian team didn't come around that often. The thrill he had felt earlier had all worn off with the departure of the Weasleys.  
  
As glad as he was that they had let him stay, guilt was knotting his stomach. 


	5. The Tryouts; Part Two

The Tryouts; Part Two  
  
Bill, Fred and George stepped out from the fireplace. Bill eyed the kitchen, making sure that they were alone. Bill turned to the twins and said in an urgent whisper, "Don't say anything to anyone about seeing Harry. Don't tell them that you made the team unless they ask. Okay? We don't need anyone brooding on your Quidditch career and school at the moment."  
  
A sudden movement caught Bill's attention. A figure clad in deep blue robes had stepped into the kitchen. His wand was pointing menacingly at the three Weasleys. His mouth was open in mid hex.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Ron was fighting against waking up. He wanted to fall back into his dreams. As he floated between being awake and staying lost in dreams, he could feel something wasn't right. His eyes ached, and his body felt heavy. Nestled in the back of his mind was a nagging feeling that something was wrong and he had to wake up. He fought with the feeling a few more seconds before his eyes fluttered open and he was blinking the sleep out of his eyes. Ron looked around, not knowing where he was. His orange wallpaper, covered in Chudley Cannon posters, were gone and replaced with white antiseptic walls. There was nothing in the room, but a table, a bed, and a few chairs next to it. Ron studied his bed: crisp white linen sheets and a white blanket covered him. Looking at the bed his memories came flooding back to him.  
  
Ginny's scared screams and then Hermione's screams of pain. He remembered the figure standing over her as she folded in on herself. He could still see the eyes of the intruder when he looked at Ron. The way the eyes showed how little they cared about the screaming. They showed how unaffected the person behind the eyes was.  
  
He had wanted to lunge at him, to bring him as much pain as Hermione felt, but before he could do anything, running feet were heard, and moments before the door opened again, he was gone. The curse had lifted. Ron had snapped out of his memories.  
  
He jumped out of the bed. He ran to the door, tripping over his feet as he went. "Ron!" For one wonderful minute he thought it was Hermione calling out to him. He spun around and saw Ginny sitting in one of the chairs that he hadn't noticed when he first woke up.  
  
"She not awake yet, Ron. They won't let anyone see her. Mum is having a fit, and Dad and Professor Dumbledore are having a hard time keeping her under control. That Dr. Johnson or what ever his name is, won't let even Dumbledore see Hermione."  
  
Ginny looked as tired as he felt. Ron looked at her. He could see tears slip down her checks. Ron crossed the room with five quick strides. "Come here Gin," he said softly as he pulled her out of the chair, and hugged her to him. She cried into his shoulder, burying her face in his chest. Her shoulders shook under his arms as he stroked her hair and back. "Shh, Ginny. It's going to be okay."  
  
"Oh Ron, but what if it's not! That doctor doesn't even know what is wrong with her. He's a complete imbecile. Dumbledore is trying to get a different doctor to come look at her. He is supposed to be the best doctor ever. He has his own family clinic", Ginny cried as she dissolved into tears again.  
  
Ron held his little sister until her tears ceased. He looked down at her. Ginny's eyes were closed, and her lips were parted slightly. She had become so fatigued from crying that she had fallen asleep. Ron picked her up and placed her on the bed. He realized how stressful last night's events had been for her, too. He pulled the covers up to her pale face, which was framed by soft red hair. He looked over his shoulder when he was leaving the room. Ginny had shifted so he couldn't see her face, but he could tell she was still asleep. He closed the door softly when he left.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Harry set in one of the plush chairs around the table, drinking a butterbeer from a silver goblet. "So, how long have you been working here?" He asked his carpet that floated in a chair across the table. It wiggled an answer back to him, but it meant nothing to Harry.  
  
He was so exhausted that he didn't care that he was trying to keep a conversation with a carpet; a carpet that had grown so attached to him, it was like a well-trained dog. He felt as worn out as he was at his birthday party.  
  
Harry was drinking his butterbeer with his eyes half closed, slouched in his chair. Slivers of sun played on his face as they danced across the table, making his goblet glimmer with silver rainbows. Harry brought the goblet up to his lips, inhaling the sweet fragrances, when the whole room gave an almighty launch sending butterbeer down the front of his robes, and Harry (along with the chair he was sitting) sprawling onto the ground in a heap. For the second time that day Harry plunged twenty feet to the ground and landed with a thump on the floor.  
  
A shooting pain raced up his right wrist when he tried to get off the floor. He stood up without putting any weight on his hurt arm. From where he stood he could see out one of the windows. The roof was on fire, sending smoke up into the early evening sky. He could see people running around outside, trying to get away from the burning building or trying to get close enough to put out the fire. Harry saw dazed people running away screaming. They were looking back over their shoulders, like they were being pursued. Small children were clinging onto their Mothers for dear life.  
  
Masses of cloaked figures were following the fleeing crowd. Harry realized with dread who the people in black were, as green light came from their wands, and the people from the Inn dropped to the ground.  
  
"Death Eaters!" Harry breathed, and then without warning his scar exploded with pain, sending him back to the floor. The room was illuminated with a harsh green glow. His breath stuck in his throat, he could feel life trying to leave him as he lay on the floor. Harry held his head in his hands trying to keep life in himself. The green glow left the room. His breath came flooding back into his lungs. He gulped it down before he tried to make it back to his feet. He bit down on his lip to keep from yelling as a new wave of pain threatened to split his scar open.  
  
Harry fumbled, trying to find his way while hardly being able to see what was around him. He came to the window, and below he could make out a tall bloodless man with red eyes standing on the ground below his window. "Voldemort," Harry gasped with lack of breath.  
  
His red eyes were blazing, and he was laughing. Harry could hear it from were he was, over the roar of noise around him. The high mirthless laugh sent icy chills up his spine. The hair on the back of his neck prickled as Lord Voldemort looked up at the window he was standing before. He looked right at Harry.  
  
Smoke was filling the room, making it hard to see and his breathing was short and hollow. Harry noticed his carpet hovering at his left side, it moved a little and Harry fell onto it closing his eyes.  
  
He could hardly think right with his scar burning, the smoke clogging his mind, and fear so strong it almost paralyzed him. With shaking hands he puled the Invisibility cloak over himself. He knew somewhere in the very back of his mind that he didn't want to be seen.  
  
The carpet shot out of the room, only pausing for Harry to open the door. Harry cast one look back into his room. Flames were licking the edges of the paper that he had read early that day. He was feeling dizzy and lost, as the smoke grew thicker with each breath he drew. Through the dense smoke Harry could see flames to his left, and endless smoke to his right.  
  
Harry and the carpet speed to the right. Green light lit up the smoke, giving it an eerie glow. People were screaming and their voices echoed in his ears, mingling with his own yells. The pain in his scar was worst than ever before. Moaning in pain, he gripped his head. Harry's hands were covered in what he thought was sweat. He pulled his hands away from his head, and saw...  
  
"Blood!" he gasped. He touched his scar again to make sure that he wasn't seeing things. When he pulled his finger away, there was no blood. He tried to convince himself that there had never been blood, but the thought that his hands were soaked in blood keep floating to the top of his mind.  
  
The green flashes became brighter and more frequent. That meant only one thing, Voldemort and his supporters were getting closer. Harry urged the carpet to fly faster. If he didn't get air soon, he wouldn't be able to get out. Harry could feel the carpet hugging the turns as it flew. It seemed to know where it was going, which was a good thing because Harry was lost. He could see light through the smoke, and it was getting brighter. The light wasn't from the raging fire that made the building feel like an inferno, or the green glow from wands, but it was the sky.  
  
"Agh!" Harry yelled out as a flame licked him, scorching the sleeve of his robes, and burning his skin. He hastily put out the flame with his other hand, burning it in the process. Harry swore under his breath.  
  
The carpet shuddered to a stop; it then backed up, and shot forward. Harry was just cling on to conciseness when the carpet smashed through a window. Glass shards rained down on Harry, slicing his skin. He took a deep breath when he could see the sky, but he choked as he inhaled the thick gray smoke that had spilled out of the building.  
  
The carpet flew higher, like a cork out of a wine bottle. The Invisibility cloak had slipped off, and was now trailing behind Harry. He was to busy breathing in the clean air to put the cloak back on. Harry looked down below him, and the sight almost made him sick. People were laying everywhere, not one of them was moving, and Voldemort stood in the mild of the crumpled forms surrounded by the Death Eaters.  
  
Voldemort had seen him flying high over the burning Inn, weaving his way between the smoke and fire. "Get Him! Don't let him get away!"  
  
A thousand stupefy curses followed Voldemort's orders. The curses shot straight at Harry. The carpet dodged the red curses one after another. Harry could hardly hold on as the carpet plunged and swerved. The Death Eaters were still firing at Harry, but he was getting away. He was almost out of the curse's reach, when one of the Death Eaters bellowed the curse. It flew faster than any curse Harry had ever seen. It shot past the other Stupefy curses and hit the carpet.  
  
The Carpet stiffened and stopped moving. It hovered before falling out from under Harry, and both Harry and the carpet plunged to the ground. The sky was the only thing Harry could see as he fell.  
  
Twisting around in the air Harry could see the ground rushing up to him. He was falling on the other side of the Inn, away from Voldemort. The ground on this side of the Inn was over grown with shrubs that were covered in long pointed thorns, and flowers that had creepers that would crush you if you stayed still long enough.  
  
The thorns grabbed at Harry's already very battered robes, ripping the fabric, and scratching his skin that had all ready been burned, sliced, and hit by trees on his way down to earth. He landed with a muted thud, and his Invisibility cloak landed half-hazardly on him. Harry finally slipped into unconsciousness, thinking he was safe hidden among the under brush. 


	6. "Obliviate!"

**"Obliviate!"******

            **P**etunia Dursley stood in front of the stove frying up a small amount of bacon and one egg for her breakfast. She had the cooking fan on, and the door open, trying to send the delicate smell of meat cooking in its own fat outside instead of the rooms where her family still sleep.

            The fat from the bacon splattered her arms and apron, leaving angry red patches on her forearms. "Vernon I'm leaving you.  I can't stay here any longer, Vernon.  Dudley tell your father I'm leaving him and I'll send him the divorce papers by owl." Petunia shook herself fiercely, trying to dislodge all the crazy ways of breaking it off with Vernon.  "I'll just have to wing it.  That's all I have to do.  People do it all the time now a days.  "Can't be to hard."  Petunia's voice lost its confidence as she mumbled to herself. 

            Petunia poured herself a glass of juice and brought it to the table.  She looked blankly at the TV that was flashing muted pictures to her.  Petunia had gotten use to waking up before dawn to enjoy the quiet before everyone else was awake.  She had picked up the habit after Dudley had gone on his diet.  The lack of food made it so she couldn't sleep like she could on a full stomach. She had just gotten up earlier enough to eat a quick breakfast.

            Then at the being of summer, she had started to wake up earlier.  It had taken her a few days to figure out what would cause her to wake up suddenly.  It hadn't been until she was walking by Harry's closed door that she'd hear him yelling.  Petunia had burst into his room, ready to yell right back at him, but was shocked to see him asleep.  Harry had been thrashing around his bed with the covers tangled at his feet.  He was moaning and yelling about being sorry, saying that he hadn't meant to hurt anyone.  

            Petunia had stood in the doorway fixed to the spot.  She was terrified that anyone could be living such horrors while asleep.  Without warning Harry had sat up in bed, his green eyes were wide open, and terror was written on his face.  Petunia had to stifle a scream.  She looked into the eyes of her sister, and could feel them begging her to help Harry.  Petunia had rushed to apologize to him, but before words left her mouth, Harry had slumped back into bed still yelling, yet asleep.  She had rushed to his side and placed a hand on his face like she would do with her own son.

            Petunia had tried to calm him down with no success.  She didn't want him to wake up and see her there, but her heart wouldn't let her leave him there with so much pain etched on his features so she started to sing in a soft voice.  At first she didn't get a response to her song, Harry had kept yelling, then he started to calm down, and he appeared to fall deeper into sleep, but not totally devoid of troubles.  She sang until he stopped muttering.  She pulled the covers up around his arms before leaving the room.  She had calmed him so many times after that during the summer, almost everyday. He would sometimes wake up but he had never recognized her, he would call her names of his friends, or even teachers.  Once he had called her mum, and she couldn't stop herself from leaving the room.

            Petunia was back to standing over the stove, tending to her meal.  She flipped the bacon one more time before deciding that it was cooked to perfection.  The bacon was light and crispy with a golden brown texture.

            After turning off the stove Petunia grabbed a potholder and spatula and picked up the heavy cast iron frying pan.  Petunia carried the pan across the kitchen.  As she was going by the kitchen window, she stopped to peer out.  

            Her reflection peered back at her.  Petunia studied her ghostly reflection, with high check bones and deep-set light green eyes.  Petunia looked past her reflection to the houses on the other side of the street.  Their shutters were drawn against the predawn shadows and the street lamps with their orange glow.

            Petunia was about to turn on her bare heel when she heard a low humming noise.  "Smack!" Petunia screamed and dropped the frying pan and all its contents to the floor when a brown ball hit the window only to slide off it.

            A voice from upstairs broke the silence that had followed. "Petunia?" said the groggy voice of Vernon.  "Are you down there Petunia?  Is everything all right?"

            "Er- Yes, everything is fine Vernon.  I was washing the pans and I dropped one.  I'm fine though," Petunia yelled back up him.

            Petunia stooped, picked up the frying pan, and approached the window.  With the frying pan posed like a club, Petunia reached out a hand to open the window.  She slid the window so it was fully open.  The brown ball shot through the window and around Petunia's frying pan.

Whatever it was, it seemed to scream as it moved about the room at high speed.  It came flying back at her face.  Petunia set her eyes on the object moving towards her.  It was within feet and Petunia brought the cast iron frying pan down with all her might. 

            The pan slammed into the object, which gave a dejected hoot and lay still at Petunia's feet.  A piece of parchment flew from its grasp and sailed through the air, landing in Petunia's juice.    

            She quickly scooped up the tiny, brown owl.  It looked back at her with small, sad eyes.  Petunia set the tiny bird on the table while she fished the roll of parchment out of her juice.  She shook the parchment off and set it next to the owl.  

            The little owl, no bigger then a tennis ball, lay still with its eyes closed.  Petunia prayed that she didn't kill the little creature.  She picked up some bacon off the floor and broke it into pieces for the owl.

            "Would you like some bacon little birdie?" The bird's beak opened slightly so Petunia placed a piece in its mouth.  Petunia couldn't tell if the owl ate the piece of meat, it just looked at her with dim eyes before giving a tired hoot and lay still.

            Petunia picked up the letter that was next to the owl.   She unrolled the parchment to find a small purple pouch.  She smoothed the parchment out on the table, and then read the letter under her breathe, "Petunia, I know we have never been properly introduced, but I'm Molly Weasley.  I'm Harry's friend's mom and I was a close friend of Lily's.  I have heard from my sons that you have recently found out you are a witch, so I am asking you to use the Floo powder to come to my house as soon as possible.  I encourage you not to refuse, for Harry has run away, and may be in trouble.  Also one of his friends has been attacked.  I have no time for details right now, I'll explain more when you get here.  Please hurry.  Molly Weasley."  

            Petunia read over the letter again, skimming its contents.  There were a lot of inkblots on the page, and the writing was spaced out, telling Petunia how much of a rush the writer was in.   "Floo powder?  What in the world..." Petunia's voiced dropped off as she remembered last summer when strange redheads had come out of the fireplace to take Harry.  Harry and the man had both talked about Floo powder.  She mused over the memory again, "Floo powder.  Harry said something 'bout that."  Petunia started to put the memories together, the four redheads coming out of the fireplace, Harry stepping into the fireplace and being whisked away, and the memories of her own childhood with Lily going places using the fireplace.  She remembered going with her once.  

            She had held on to her younger sister for her life.  Lilly had told her that if she let go she would be lost in the Floo network forever because she was only a muggle.  When they had landed at their destination, she had lost her balance and fell, bringing Lily crashing down with her. Lily's friends had laughed at their entrance, and had asked what she was doing there.

            Lily had calmly explained that she had invited her older sister to come shopping with her and her friends. Lily's friends had accepted her for the day.  They had gone through Diagon Alley like a mob; all laughing at Sirius who was acting like a fool.  Petunia knew all about Hogwarts life from Lily's stories.  She knew not to talk about the houses, because Lily had friends from all houses and it was easy to cause and up roar saying that one house was better than another. 

            They had brought Petunia in every story there was.  Her favorite had been the wand store.  Mr. Ollivander had talked to Lily and her friends for a few minutes, asking about their wands, and then he had let her try some of the wands.  He had measured every part of her while Lily's friends looked on.  She had tried wand after wand, not because she wanted to, but because Sirius, Remus, and James kept giving her one more wand to try.

            Remus had given her a rosewood, 12 and one-fourth inch wand with Phoenix feathers, and one unicorn hair.  Mr. Ollivander had told them it was a very powerful wand, a good wand for healing charms, for it had been soaked in Phoenix tears.

            As soon as she touched it she felt something coarse through her body, tingling every nerve.  She looked at Remus and grinned at him, but he had taken the wand away from her before she could even wave it through the air Remus took it away from her and gave it back to Mr. Ollivander.  She had gotten the feeling that Remus had seen the power flow through her.  He wouldn't look at her as he tried to rush them out of the store, but before he got her outside Mr. Ollivander took her aside.

            "Don't worry dear.  The next time you come in here you will by buying that wand and I'll have it ready for you.  Go off with your friends and enjoy them while you can, there may not be very many days left."  He escorted her out of the store and into the bright sunshine of Diagon Alley.  She had fun the rest of the day, and she had quickly forgotten about the wand, but Mr. Ollivander's last few words rung clear.  Her magical friends soon forgot about her, and she did her best to forget about them.

            The little owl gave a short low hoot to her, and she snapped back into the kitchen, which seemed dull after the memory of the bright, cobblestone street.   She tried to get back to the many stores they had explored that day, but the moment was over.

            She didn't like the idea of traveling by Floo powder without a person of strong magic in their blood.  She picked up the small purple poach, and peered inside.  There was glittering powder in it; just liked she remembered from her first and only time using it, and a piece a parchment with hastily written instructions.  Petunia read over the instructions a few times.  She ripped a piece of parchment of Molly's letter and grabbed a pen.  She wrote one line, before picking up the owl, the pouch, the instructions, Molly's letter, and fire starting materials, and went into the living room.

            She removed the electric fire, and built one in its place.  It took a moment to get the fire going, but it soon took off.  She took a pinch of the powder and threw it in.  The flames rose high and turned an emerald color.  Petunia repeated the words she had to say over and over, before she even stepped in to the fire.  She held the tennis ball size owl to her chest.  She took a faltering step into the fire.  It was like a warm summer zephyr licking her legs and up her body.  She looked back at her living room, trying not to talk herself out of it, out of leaving the world she had accepted with open arms.  Trying not to think what would happen if she got stuck in the Floo network, and even if she did make it what kind of life was waiting for her on the other side.

            She spoke softly, but with determination "The Borrow!"  The fire sucked her away and out of sight.  She spun fast; it was almost like falling.  She could see other fireplaces whipping by her, and glimpses of sofas in peoples' houses.

            Vernon had just appeared in the kitchen as Petunia left.  Her read her simple note just as she fell into the Weasley's kitchen, all it said was "Good bye Vernon, breakfast is on the floor."  As he was picking the food up off the floor, miles away one of the Weasleys was helping Petunia up off the floor.  

* ~ * ~ *

            Bill saw the person before he heard the curse the person was saying.  His mind was racing; he didn't have time to resister the face of the blue clad figure before the curse was completed.

"Stupefy!" cried the voice.  Fred fell to the ground next to Bill.  As soon as the cruse was said it was repeated, but before George even hit the ground the red flash was headed straight at Bill.

Bill fell backwards hitting his head on the corner of the mantel above the fireplace.  He didn't hear the person in the doorway swear under his breath, or say the counter curse to wake up the twins and pull them to their feet.

            Bill was floating in the darkness of unconsciousness, not knowing where he was or what he was doing there. He knew that a part of him hurt, but he couldn't tell what hurt or how much.  He could tell that he was breathing, for the sound of his breath was the only noise that he could hear.  He didn't know where he was or why, he did know, however that this place was not a real place. 

            He tried to see beyond the darkness, but he didn't even know if there was something beyond the blackness that pushed in around him like a thick tapestry.  Then without warning, voices and light flooded the darkness.

            "Do you think he'll be okay?" asked a voice that seemed to flicker in and out of his hearing.  Another voice answered.  It was a voice that sounded laced with guilt, but beyond that Bill didn't know what had been spoken.  The voices continued to float in and out of his hearing mixed with light like a light bulb with a bad connection.

Bill started to fall trough the darkness, spiraling down falling faster, but only to emerge in the lighted kitchen of The Borrow.  People were crowed around him and their faces swam in and out of focus.

            Bill noticed that someone was touching his face, stroking his face to bring him back into the real world.  A woman was peering at him through dim green eyes, which had long ago lost their sparkle, glow, and warmness.  A yelp of surprise leapt from his throat when his mind had registered the strange women looking at him.

            He tried to get away from the woman, but a throbbing pain in his head kept him where he was.  "Clam down, Bill.  This is Petunia Dursley, Harry's aunt," said Sirius, in deep blue robes.  He reached a hand out to help Bill to his feet.  Bill took the offered hand and staggered onto his feet.  He plopped down into a kitchen chair; the pain in his head was fretting to send him back into the darkness.

            "You cursed us?" He asked Sirius.

            Sirius nodded his head; "I heard voices coming from in here, when I was in the other room.  I heard Harry's name, and I thought you were the people who had attacked Hermione.  I'm really sorry 'bout that."

            Fred was looking at Sirius with a worried look on his face.  He looked like he was having an inner battle that showed up on his facial features.  "Is she okay?" he had asked barely above a whisper.  His eyes were downcast so he was looking at the floor.  He didn't want the worry in his eyes to show, but he couldn't keep it from soaking his voice.

            Sirius looked him over carefully, trying to find what he was hiding, but it had been too long since he had to console teenage guys.  "I don't know, Fred.  There hasn't been any word from the hospital.  Everyone is there, and your welcome to go, if you would like."  Sirius looked at George, Bill, and Petunia as to say you may go to.  

            Petunia spoke up for the first time, "What about the owl?  I mean..." her voice faded off as she looked at the tiny owl in her hand.  It had stopped hooting when she had fallen out of the fireplace.  She gently stroked the minuet owl.

            George looked closely at the owl in her hand.  "Is that Pig?  What happened to him?" he said in a voice filled with concern. 

            Petunia looked over her shoulder at Sirius before taking a deep breath and telling her story of what had happened that morning, and the days that Harry had been gone.  She didn't tell them about the times that she had stayed with Harry when he was having nightmares.  She didn't think it was time for them to know that.

"It's really a surprise that he could survive a blow like that, but for how much longer will he be able to hold on?"  Bill said.

            "Shouldn't we bring him to that place in the Wizarding town?  Its still there, isn't it?"  Everyone looked at Petunia in surprise.  She looked back at them with amusement spreading on her face.  "I've been there once with Lily and her friends, and you."  She looked at Sirius and studied him, taking in the years of Azkaban.

            "How do you know each other?  Harry told us that at the end of his third year he told you that Sirius was his godfather, and a murder on the run," George asked Petunia.

            "Ah, yes that.  Well I did give her a fright when I helped her off the floor when she arrived here using Floo powder." Sirius shot a look at Petunia and she picked up the story.

_            Petunia spun around in the Floo network.  After a few moments of the dizzying sensation she had to close her eyes.  Without warning the spinning changed to falling and she found herself face down on the hard floor of the Weasley's family kitchen.  She heard hurried footsteps coming her way.  She was too dizzy to stand, but she found herself being pulled up by a man that she had once known._

_            He was someone that had mocked her for not having magic flow through her blood.  He was the one who had killed her sister.  And he was the one that had leered at her from the television one summer; her nephew's escaped murderer godfather._

_            She screamed and tried to free herself from his grip, still screaming.  She pulled her foot back and thrusted her foot forward.  It made contact with his shin and he gave a yelp of pain._

_            "Calm down woman!" He barked at her.  Petunia instantly shut up afraid of what must be a fierce man, and what he could do to her.  "I'm not going to hurt you, I don't know what Harry had told you, but it's not true."_

_            "You killed my sister!"  Petunia snarled at him.  She may not have liked her sister in her last half of her life, but she was still her younger sister and not even something like magic could change that fact._

_            "I- I -didn't.  I- Oh!" He howled and buried his face in his hands.  His shoulders moved back and forth and his sobs were muffled.  "Oh, Lily and James.  I'm so sorry."  He looked at Petunia.  His eyes were full of haunting memories that she could never understand._

_"You don't understand.  It's my fault they died, but I didn't kill any one.  I could never do something like that to my friends.  I would die for them, that's how much I cared about them.  And now I would do the same for Harry and his friends," Sirius looked at Petunia with tears streaming down his face._

_            Petunia believed him.  She pulled him into a hug, remembering him to be her sister's friend, the troublemaker and practical joker.  He broke away from her embrace, and left the room.  Petunia had followed him into the other room._

_            He sat down on an old sofa and started to talk.  He told her what had happened to the Marauders.  He was still talking when they heard noises coming from the kitchen announcing what would be the arrival of Bill and the twins._

            Silence had fallen across the small kitchen.  Each person lost in his or her mind, not knowing what to say.  The silence grew until it became an uncertainess of what they were to do.  The people in the kitchen started to shift their weight from foot to foot.

            "What about Ginny?"  George asked, breaking the spell that Petunia's story had cast.

            "I'm not sure.  Like I said before I haven't heard anything from the hospital," Sirius said. "Any of you are welcome to go to the hospital.  I can't of course."

            "What about the owl?"  Petunia said, drawing attention back to the pint-size bird.  "I would like someone to go with me.  I don't think I could find it by myself."

            "I'll go," said George.  "Say hi to everyone for me, Okay?"

            Everyone got ready to go.  Bill healed his hurt head so it wouldn't hurt any more.  George got some money.  Fred disappeared for a moment and came back with two flowers.  Sirius wished he could go with them.  It didn't take long for everyone to leave using Floo powder, leaving Sirius alone by himself.

* ~ * ~ *

            Under the smoked filled sky, almost hidden by beautiful huge blooms in all colors lay Harry Potter.  His skin was bruised and cut. His robes all but ripped to shreds hardly clung to his body.  His devilish black hair now covered in ash and bits of glass fall across his forehead. The invisibility cloak covered part of him, and where the cloak had been ripped, burned and smudged with dirt, Harry's body showed through.   

Thick, green, brown creepers crawled over him, rapping around his feet and working their way up the unconscious boy.  The creepers wound tightly over his body and small thorns projected from the creepers dug into his pale skin.

            The blooms gave off a strong and a very repulsive aura, making the air difficult to breathe in without gagging.  The smell was as smothering as the smoke that was still forming clouds over the burning Inn.  

            The magnificent Magic Carpet Inn now lay in runes; totally distorted.  The Quidditch pitch looked like a battlefield, where the war was lost.  The goal post had fallen down, crushing the stands where Harry had been earlier in the day.

            Carpets that had lost their keepers flew around searching for them.  Some of the carpets hovered over unmoving bodies that had once ridden around on the beautiful carpets.  A few carpets lay in the mud, cursed and ripped to shreds, due to their loyalty to their owners. 

            Harry's carpet was still stiff from the curse that had shot it out of the sky.  It was lying too close to the flames that were threatening to eat it.  People were running by, but nobody stopped to do the counter course.

            The people running by were no longer fleeing guests, but death eaters searching for Harry.  None of the guest knew that The Boy Who Lived was missing, so they had all fled as soon as they could.

            The Dark Mark hung in the air, after Voldemort himself said the curse to put it there. Most of the death eaters had apparated away upon seeing the skull and serpent. It had been their cue to leave; that's how they had known that their job was done.  Only a few were left to search for Harry and bring him to Lord Voldemort.  The death eaters were still shouting out curses.  The curses helped them in their search for Harry, or they were making the wards strong to keep out the Ministry hit wizards.

            Harry was almost totally encased in the creepers.  Even if he were awake he wouldn't have been able to move.  Just moments before the vines would cut off his air and totally block him from the world above the under brush, a shadow of a gruff human fell across him, blocking the sun.

            Davey Gudgeon was standing over Harry.  He pulled out his rather long wand and said a spell under his breath.  A purple light shot out of his wand and rushed at Harry and the creepers.  The creepers shrank away from Harry; they retreated like small garden snakes.  Gudgeon said another spell and Harry floated by his side on a stretcher.  He walked out of the under growth with Harry.  The death eaters let him go by them, and with a help of a portkey they left the Inn's grounds.

            Harry awoke many hours later.  He was confused when he realized he was no longer beneath the under brush, but instead he was lying on a red faded sofa.  His whole body ached.  Harry could hear a voice coming from another room.  Someone was talking and moving about in the next room.  Harry strained his ears so he could hear, but he only got snippets of a one-sided conversation. 

             "Yes Sir," said a voice that Harry thought he had heard before.  "Is it this one Sir?" There was a seconded of silence, then more talking. "It says, um," The voice drop too low for Harry to make out the words.  Harry wanted to know who the people were and what they were talking about.

            "Yes Sir.  I'm sure he is.  He is asleep on the sofa.  Yes Sir." There was a pause between each of the statements, like someone was asking a question.  It is done Sir.  I will Sir.  Good day to you too." Harry was going to pretend to be asleep in case the owner of the voice decided to come and see him.  He didn't even have time to close his eyes.

            The door swung open and Davey Gudgeon came into the room. He was carrying a tray pilled high with delicious looking food.  Gudgeon smiled at Harry when he saw that he was awake.

            "How are you doing Harry?"  Harry groaned.  "I see.  It seems that you had a hard day.  You hungry?" He gestured towards the tray in his hands.

Harry nodded in reply.  Gudgeon helped him to a sitting position and set he sat the tray on Harry's lap.

            "I don't have to feed you, do I?"  Gudgeon gave a gruff laugh.  Harry ate the food he was given.  His arms were tired and could hardly lift the fork to his mouth.  As he ate, he took the time to look more closely at the room he was in.

            The room was over all very informal.  A few pictures adorned the walls.  Harry studied the photos.  They showed a group of people, mostly men, gathered in a gray stone room.  Some of the people were under the frame, or had their backs to Harry.  Harry didn't recognize anyone in the photos.  Harry wondered why people would have a party in such a dull looking setting.

            Harry's eye's traveled on to the other objects in the room.  The furniture in the room clashed with Harry's first impression of Gudgeon, who had fine robes lined with fur.  Everything in the room had a shabbiness look to it.  The chairs had holes in them, the table had scratches, and a few sheets were draped over odd shape objects.  Gudgeon must have noticed Harry looking around the room and he quickly started to talk.

            "I sent a letter to Dumbledore," Gudgeon didn't look at Harry as he spoke he kept glancing at the photos  "He'll be glad to know you're okay.  I'm thinking you can rest up here for a few days and then head back home.

            "The Minister of Magic is gonna have a hard time with what happened today.  That is if he got out of there okay."

            Harry looked at him, "The minister was there today, at the Inn?"

            "Of course he was there."  Gudgeon laughed again at Harry's look of surprise.

            "I hope nobody thinks I kidnapped you.  The press would have a field day with that 'Local man kidnapped The Boy Who Lived right in front of a crowd of Death Eaters.'  Wouldn't that be rich!"  Gudgeon slapped his knee.

            "How did you get by all those Death Eaters?  I mean why didn't they stop you?"

            "It wasn't that hard Harry.  It's too bad about the Quidditch tryouts.  Don't see how they can finish those now."  Gudgeon continued to talk as Harry ate.  He would occasionally say something to Gudgeon when he would mention something important.

            Harry felt more tired with every mouth full of food.  His arms were so tired that he couldn't lift them any more, although he was still hungry.  His ears seemed to stop working and he could no longer tell what Gudgeon said.  Harry's eyes were fighting him.  They wanted to close, but he didn't want to sleep yet, he knew that Gudgeon was talking to him.  Harry blinked, but his eyes didn't reopen.  He dropped off to sleep.

            "About time," Gudgeon said as he lifted the tray off Harry's lap.  He walked through the door he had come through earlier.  The room had very little in it.  There was a grand fireplace at one end.  In the middle of the vast chamber was a scrub wood table with a giant stone cauldron on it.  Some bottles that used to be full were next to the cauldron. 

Gudgeon cleared the bottles away with a sweep of his wand as he walked towards the fireplace.  The sounds of his footsteps echoed off the gray stone floors and walls.  He lighted the fire, which was the only light in the stone chamber.  There were no doors or windows in the room to let in light. 

            Harry was asleep on the faded sofa, which was rather small for him to sleep on.  It was moved like a love seat, made for two people sitting unnaturally close. Harry's feet hung over one of the arms.  His arms were tangled under his head, for lack of a pillow.   As soon as his eyes closed, _Harry slipped into a dark, dank stone room.  He had stepped into the pictures that adorn the walls.  The room was identical to the pictures, right down to the throng of people. _

            _For one second, or maybe less, it was hard to tell when you were asleep; the room stood still and no one moved.  Then without warning action exploded around the room.  Babble surrounded Harry, but he couldn't make sense of any of it.  He heard names, places, and dates, but his mind couldn't, or maybe wouldn't put it all together._

            Gudgeon was content just eating the food his house elf had given him.  Gudgeon could hear the elf punishing herself; he made no move to stop her shrieks of agony.  He did wish however, that the elf would punish herself quieter.   He made a mental note to punish her for her noise.  

            Just then Harry started to move.  His eyes moved rapidly under his closed lids, and he was mouthing words in his sleep.   If a voice was given to his silent words it would be a jumble of different conversations, but that is just what Gudgeon did when he pulled out his wand.  Davey dragged his chair closer, and watched Harry react to his dreams.

            Harry unfolded from the sofa.  He looked around the room through closed eyelids.  He seemed a little lost.  Gudgeon laughed a bit; Harry's strange movements amused him.  He watched Harry approach the door to the drab room.  Hesitating only slightly, Harry entered the room.  Gudgeon followed him.

            The room had grown to be rather hot and stuffy with the fire roaring in the fireplace.  Gudgeon didn't pay any mind to Harry's constant babbling, as he moved over to the fire.  He pulled out his wand, and was in mid swish when he got the feeling that the fire would be needed later.  He kept it lit.  The feel to the room now varied greatly to the feel of the room in Harry's dream.__

_Harry was hugging his robes to his body trying to stay warm.  It wasn't until he noticed this fact that he realized how strange of robes he had on.  He studied the robes as if he was Hermione studying for the NEWTS.  The robes were so black; the darkness seemed to go on forever. They clung to his frame like the cloth was a part of him.  He rubbed the fabric between his fingers.  The fabric was smooth, and thick.  Harry could tell he was wearing some of the finest dress robes, most likely better then Draco Malfoy could ever hope to have._

Davey Gudgeon watched Harry rip his already very battered robes.  Gudgeon made no move to stop Harry.  He wondered what Harry was doing in his dreams to rip up his robes.  Gudgeon leaned against the mantle, and smoked a pipe.

Harry dropped his robes and looked at the other people in the room with him.  He couldn't make out anyone's face.  What use to be just babbling now flooded his ears in a string of choppy phrases.  He listened to everyone as they talked.  Harry wandered through the room trying to absorb what reached his ears.  The people talked about the Quidditch tryouts.  What Harry didn't understand was that they keep saying "upcoming."  Harry stopped next to a rather large group of people dressed in black; they were talking about the tryouts.

"Lets hope everything goes as planed," said a man with a very cold voice.  A female voice as light as music spoke up.

"I can imagine the headlines," she chuckled lightly before she went on, "Catastrophe at Quidditch Tryouts." She chuckled again along with the rest of the group.  "Do we know yet if the boy will be there?"

_"Ah yes, our guest of honor.  He will be there tomorrow. He was seen at the Inn."  This was a new voice that Harry hadn't heard yet.  The statement that he told the group sent the rest into a sort of up roar.  Talking broke out all around Harry, but not seeing anyone's face, Harry couldn't tell who was talking_

_"Who saw him?  Was it one of us?"_

_"I heard that it was one of us.  Who ever it was got him into the Inn."_

"Someone said he was lost.  It was lucky that one of our people found him."  The voices swilled and mixed, the noise pushed in on his ears.  The sound made him dizzy, it reached such a point that the pitch was so high, Harry couldn't tell he was yelling.

Gudgeon was shocked to hear Harry yelling in what had to be anguish.  Gudgeon had been listening to Harry as he talked in his sleep.  Gudgeon was surprised by the way Harry switched voices with perfection.  Gudgeon recognized most, if not all the voices that Harry was using. He was mildly concerned for the boy by his sudden change in mode, but he knew it was bound to happen.  He wondered if he should wake him up, he wasn't sure if you could be hurt in the realm of dreams.  He decided not to wake him, he had heard about how risky it was to try and wake someone who was in a deep sleep. People said that if you were waken when you were in a deep state of sleep, just like Harry, that person might get stuck in their dream.  Gudgeon didn't know if the story was true, but he wasn't about to test it out on Harry.

Without warning Harry's yells stopped.  Gudgeon looked at him, holding his breath to see what would happen next.  Gudgeon waited.  Silence took the place of Harry's yells.  The silence was so strong that it blocked out every sound, from the crackling of the fire to Harry's ragged breath.  Gudgeon keep waiting.

Harry turned to face Gudgeon.  Harry's eyes snapped open.  Gudgeon stared at Harry who stared right back.  "You-you were sleep walking Harry," Gudgeon stammered.  "Why don't you go back to the sofa," it wasn't a question. Gudgeon walked forward, and reach out to try and guide Harry back to the sofa.  Harry turned away from him, and started to talk in strange voices again.  Davey took a shaky breath and returned to the fireplace to listen to Harry.

_The sound snapped back into voices.  Harry was standing next to the same group of people, but more had joined in the discussion. The topic of the talking had shifted slightly.  The group still talked about the Quidditch tryouts, but they were no longer talking about the boy.  It seemed to Harry that he missed some of the conversation._

_"Security has to be tight. We all need our wands." Harry recognized the man's cold voice; it was the same voice from the first conversation.  Harry thought the voice sound more familiar then some he had just encountered.  The voice had such a coldness that it stood out, but then he though of the Slytherins.  Almost all of them had icy voices._

_"Are were wearing our robes?"_

_"Don't be daft!" A voice snarled, "What else would we wear?  Muggle clothing?"  A form separated from the blankness that was the other robe figures.  Harry was almost sure this person was the one who had just finished talking.  Harry still couldn't see anyone's face._

_"Well something sure got Avery in a huff."  Grunts of agreement went around the group._

_"What about you?" A female voice cut through the group's small talk.  Harry didn't think this party, if you want to call it that, was a big hang out for females.  The voice was the same as before.  "Aren't you going to say anything?  You've been standing there for an awful long time."  A slim figure glided out of the mass and touched Harry's shoulder.  Harry could tell by just looking that a female was hovering over him.  Harry blushed._

"M- me?" Harry stuttered, still blushing.

Gudgeon looked up sharply when he heard Harry speak in his normal voice.  He listened while the boy went between his own voice and the voice of a woman.  The women seemed to know that Harry had never been to a gathering like that one before.  Davey watched as Harry interacted with the women only he could see.  Harry made hand gestures just like he was talking to a real person.

The dream had taken a different path then Gudgeon thought.  Harry wasn't suppose to talk to the people in the dream, he was only to observe what happened around him.  Gudgeon thought about waking him again, but something told him not to. It was the same feeling he got when he was going to put out the fire.  The feeling was like someone whispering to him, telling him not to do it, and so Gudgeon let the dream run its course.  

Gudgeon took out his wand, and drew a chair in the air.  He sat down.  He had long ago gotten tired of standing, just leaning against the mantel with the flames warming him.  Gudgeon closed his eyes, but he had to force them open again.  The night had worn on as Harry's dream continued to unfold. 

_"Course I'm talking to you."  Harry could feel her eyes drilling into him, even if he couldn't see her face.  He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.  Harry didn't want them to know he had to no idea what they were talking about._

_"Well its clear you are new hear.  Let me introduce you to everyone.  The first meeting you come to is a lot different then the initiation ceremony.  You'll get use to it, don't worry."  She started to steer Harry around the room. "I'll start be introducing you to some of the people you well need to know to move up in our world."_

_"What-what is your name?"_

_"My name?" She laughed, "Why, you don't need to know my name.  Come along."  She led Harry to the front of the room, near the fireplace that had a purple fire burning.  The fire gave off no heat.  In fact the fire seemed to seep with coldness.  Harry shivered._

_"Okay. So are you ready to meet some people?"  She reached out a hand and took someone by the arm.  "So this is." She continued to speak, but Harry couldn't hear her._

_Wind swilled in his ears, but grew to be the deafening screaming noise that Harry had heard before.  It was louder then ever.  Harry covered his ears, but he found that the noise came from inside him.  By covering his ears the noise grow louder still, and built up pressure.  Harry left his hands on his ears, but a yell pushed past his lips, the pressure had been too much to keep in._

It was a harsh and very raw yell that woke Gudgeon from his sleep.  He was having his own dreams, but they quickly faded from his mind.  "Stupid boy," he grunted. 

He looked at Harry.  Harry was clawing at his ears, his dirty nails digging into his own flesh.  He was trying to stop the noise, but it was beyond his control.   His eyes were screwed shut, with tears leaking out.  Sweat beaded up on his face.  It was clear the boy was in pain.

Gudgeon came to a conflict in interest.  He had been told to let the dream run its course, which it was doing.  But seeing the boy in this much pain, Davey didn't know if he could let it go on.  Still it was risky to wake him.  Gudgeon found he had a con to every pro he thought of.  He didn't know what to do.

"Shut up boy," he snarled.  "Do I wake him, and hope for the best or do I press on with the plans?"

"Wake him you fool!" An angry voice snapped at Gudgeon.  Causing him to spin around looking for the source of the voice.  "In the fire you fool!"

"Sir!" Gudgeon said jumping to his feet.  "Sir how may I help you?"  Gudgeon bowed low, with a flourish of an arm. He then dropped to his knees in front of the fire.

"Wake the boy before he loses his mind."  Gudgeon turned to look back at Harry, who was still having a fit, and back again at the face staring out at him from the fire.  

"Do it know!  Before it's to late!"  The man in the fire pulled one of his arms into the portal.  He cuffed Gudgeon across the face.  The red mark that he left would later become a large and very vivid bruise.

The pain jolted Gudgeon back to his senses that had been absent since he awoke from his nap. "Yes Sir," Gudgeon grumbled.  He pulled his wand out and faced Harry.  Gudgeon said a long spell.  The spell had such force that it sent Harry falling to the floor.  When his head hit the stone his eyes snapped open.  That was the only thing that changed about him.

Davey panicked.  Harry had one of the strangest looks in his eyes.  It was a mix of fear, pain, and deep confusion.  Harry's yelling ceased.  Davey didn't notice this; he was still staring at Harry's eyes.  Davey was trying to see any sign that Harry had woken up, hoping that he didn't become lost in the dream world.

_Harry's eyes seemed to shut down.  Blackness encased him; it was suffocating.  Harry tried to fight it, this unknown force that came with the screaming din.  It was like swimming in a black ocean, but he was drowning._

_The blackness slowly changed.  Harry was now in the mist of a purple world.  The air changed too.  It took on a coldness that cold freeze the blood that flowed in Harry's veins.  The blue fire that once burnt in the threshold was now swelling around Harry.  The purple flames licked at his body, leaving frost covering his arms, legs, and his face.  He was having trouble breathing._

_The purple mist grew dark around the edges.  Harry was about to pass out, and become lost in the world of dark dreams.  Moments before the blackness closed in altogether, he heard someone saying his name. _

Harry struggled.  He felt himself fall.  Blurs of color flashed across his mind.  A sharp pain surged through his head and down his back as he collided with a hard surface; his eyes snapped open.

Davey Gudgeon was standing over him repeating Harry's name.  The fear left Harry's eyes, but the pain and confusion seemed to become more evident.  "Harry? Harry, do you know who I'm am?"  Harry made no move to show that he had even heard Gudgeon.

Gudgeon reached out a hand to tap Harry on the side of his face.  Harry's eyes slide into focus and he saw Gudgeon hovering over him.  A moan slipped past his lips.

"Thata boy.  Come on, come round."  Gudgeon tapped Harry's face some more.

"What are you doing?" said the man in the fireplace.  His voice was very forceful. "What are you waiting for?  Put a memory charm on him.  Do you want him to know what happened?"

"Then what was the point in making him have that dream?"  Davey turned and growled at the man.

"The point, Gudgeon, is there is no point.  That wasn't what was to happen.  Something went wrong.  Don't you see that, or are you to daft?"

"Yes Sir.  I understand.  I will do the memory charm."

"Good.  I will wait to see if you do it right.  Make sure it is strong enough, you don't want him to remember where he got the injuries.  I have to talk to you, so hurry up." he paused for breath, than he continued.  "Put him back in the other room, make sure he can't go anywhere outside that room.  Then I want you to come back in here."

"Yes Sir," said Gudgeon.  He took a deep breath to be sure he had force behind his words.  He yelled into the stone chamber filling it with echoes of:  

**"****Obliviate!"**


	7. Visiting Hermione

Harry Potter; Fifth Year Unchanging  
  
Visiting Hermione  
  
  
  
Ron paced up and down one long corridor in the hospital. He walked past heavy old doors that lead to the patient's room. Ron never left one door for long. Room nine hundred and thirty-four, curse ward, fourth floor was the room that Hermione lay in. He stopped in front of the door and pressed an ear to the wood of the door. He didn't hear a sound through the door. He knew, of course, that he wouldn't be able to hear anything because every room had a silencing charm on it.  
  
The first moment he got, he had slipped away from his family to find Hermione. He had found out what room she was in when he barred one nurse from her duties until she told him where to find Hermione. It had taken him awhile to find the room, but know that he found it he had no intention of leaving. It had been two hours ago that he told his family he was going to the bathroom.  
  
Ron was halfway down the corridor, a few doors past Hermione's room, and he was on his way back down the corridor when sirens blasted through the corridor along with a magnified voice telling the doctors who specialized in curse treatment to report to the fourth floor. The corridor plunged into darkness for a split second, then the torches that had been glowing orange came back an icy blue. Ron's heart sunk, he knew it was the cool-blue signal.  
  
Ron ran down the corridor and skidded to a stop in front of Hermione's door. It wouldn't be long until the doctors and nurses flood the corridor and kicked him out, but before he could let that happen he need to know if Hermione was okay. "Hermione," he whispered through the keyhole on the door. He pressed his ear up to it, but no noise came from inside. Ron tried again, calling her name louder this time. There was still no answer. Ron was about to kick the door down when he heard voice and rushing feet coming around a corner.  
  
Ron stood frozen when the first wave of people came around the corner. Five people pushed a bed down the corridor. Ron could see a figure lying on the bed. The people pushing the bed veered off into a room when a door opened by magic. More people pushing beds followed the first group. For each group a door opened along the corridor. The corridor itself seemed to stretch so more doors could fit in the long corridor. The people pushing the beds started to go by Ron, as the first rooms they came to were full.  
  
Some of the people on the beds didn't seem to move at all in the brief time that Ron saw them. Others moaned, or cried out. One woman who looked slightly deranged shot out a hand and latched on to Ron's arm. She was yelling like a mad woman. "My baby!" She screeched. She was pulling along, as people pushed her bed. Ron had no choice but to stumble along after her. "My baby, where is she? My poor baby!" She wailed.  
  
One of the men pushing her bed noticed Ron following them. "You can't come down here," he barked at Ron.  
  
"I'm sorry, but she won't let me go."  
  
"What's that. She wouldn't let you go?" He asked, Ron simple nodded. "Let the boy go, Hun."  
  
"I want my baby!" She wailed again.  
  
"What happened to all these people?"  
  
"There was a massacre down in Bulgaria. I think it was right after the Quidditch tryouts. All the hospitals in England are overfilled. In all my years as a doctor I've never seen anything like this, and I hope I never will again." The man stopped pushing the bed to come over to Ron. He pried the lady's hand off his arm. "Now get out of here before someone tips off security. Although I doubt anyone will care much if some kid is up here. Why are you up here?"  
  
Ron didn't know if he should tell him about Hermione. He wanted to see her so bad that he decide he might as well tell this guy. "My friend is in room nine hundred and thirty- four. And I came up here to see if I could see her."  
  
"Come back here at eleven o'clock tonight. If I'm not up here wait twenty minutes, if I'm still not there, go back to who ever you are here with. Okay kid?" They had reached an open room. Ron nodded before they disappeared behind a close door.  
  
Ron walked back down the long corridor. Sometimes it seemed that he wasn't moving. The corridor was still growing, so it was hard to tell if he was going anywhere. When he got back to Hermione's room he stopped to whisper through the keyhole again. "I'll come back for you Hermione, don't worry."  
  
Ron shuffled down the rest of the corridor. People on beds keep rolling by him. Ron looked at the people who went by. He was hopping against hope that his brothers weren't going to be rolled by him. He hoped they had left before the attacks. Beds were lined up outside rooms.  
  
Ron came to a dead stop. Lying on one bed, his eyes only half open, and seemed to be following Ron's progression down the corridor was Victor Krum. "Krum!" Ron breathed.  
  
"Hey Ron," Krum said in a horse voice. Ron didn't have any time to marvel that Krum recognized him, for what he said next made fear flow through him. "Harry was there, Ron. He was at the tryouts. They were after him."  
  
Ron wanted to ask who was after Harry, but before he could ask, a doctor came out of a room, and saw him. "You have to leave this area boy," the doctor said, then he turned his attention to Krum. "We have a room for you." He stared to push Krum away.  
  
"Wait," said Krum. "I need to talk to him." The doctor was about to protest, but Krum weakly waved him off.  
  
"Ron, I saw Harry try to get away. I tried to help him get away, but someone hit me with a curse. Before I passed out I saw Harry fall off his carpet. Get someone out there to help him." Krum started to cough, and the doctor pushed him down the corridor leaving Ron to gape after them.  
  
Ron turned and ran down the corridor, back to the lobby where his family waited to hear about Hermione. He skidded around corners, dashing around people, and crashing down nine flights of stairs to get back to the lobby. He arrived there totally out of breath. He slid to a stop. He was overbalanced and fell into a chair next to his mum.  
  
"Ron, where have you been?" Molly Weasley glared at him. Ron didn't say anything. He couldn't, he was still panting from his mad-dash through the corridor. "Well? I'm waiting. You have no right to disappear for well over two hours without telling anyone."  
  
"I told you I was going to the bathroom," Ron said meekly. It didn't matter now how angry Mrs. Weasley would be at him, once he told her what he had found out, she would be too happy to be mad at him.  
  
"That was some bathroom break," piped in Ginny. "Or did you get lost?"  
  
"I see you're feeling better; glad to hear it." Ron shot back.  
  
"Enough you two," Molly glared at them. "Ron, where have you been?"  
  
Ron retold the whole story about finding Hermione's room, the crazy lady who wouldn't let go of him, and the guy who told him what happened at the tryouts. He paused here. "Fred, George, and Bill do you think-"  
  
"Of course they're alright; they're back," Molly said with a bit of an edge in her voice.  
  
"Oh, they are?" Silence hung over them, thick and unsettling after Ron spoke.  
  
"Go on with your story Ron," said Ginny in a small voice. Her eyes were shinning with a look that Ron couldn't place. He thought for a moment that it was excitement. He couldn't help but think that his sister knew him better then he thought.  
  
He winked at her. Ginny grinned back at him, eager to know what he knew. Any worries that she had were forgotten for a moment when Ron started to tell his story again.  
  
Ron told them about how the guy invited him back to the fourth floor to see Hermione at eleven o'clock. "Mum, I think you should come with me," Ron said. Mrs. Weasley nodded, but said nothing. Ron continued. He repeated almost word for word what Krum had told him.  
  
Bill and Fred walked into the lobby right at the end of Ron's story. They sat on the other side of the room facing Ron, Ginny, and Mrs. Weasley. "Where is Dad?" Asked Bill.  
  
"He went to get some food," said Ginny  
  
"When were you planning on telling me that Harry was at the tryouts?" Mrs. Weasley snapped at them.  
  
Bill and Fred looked at each other unsure of what to say. "What makes you think we saw Harry?" Fred asked.  
  
"Don't you play dumb. Krum told Ron that he saw Harry there," Mrs. Weasley had gotten up out of her chair and was now hovering over Fred and Bill.  
  
Bill launched into the story about running into Harry at the tryouts. Mrs. Weasley didn't say anything as he told his story. "And we told him that we would come back tomorrow to bring him home with us," Bill said finishing up his story.  
  
"Did you know that a group of people attacked everyone at the tryouts shortly after you left?" Fred and Bill looked shocked. "Now we're not sure who they were, but that's not important at the moment. What is important is Krum saw them attacking Harry. He told Ron that right before he was hit with a curse and passed out, he saw Harry fall of his magic carpet. What do you have to say for yourself?"  
  
"We didn't know mum," said Fred.  
  
"We thought he would be fine there," put in Bill.  
  
"I see," was all that Mrs. Weasley said. After a moment of silence she left the lobby and headed to the Owl Post. Ron sat and watched her leave. Ginny also got up, but Ron didn't wait to see where she was going. He closed his eyes.  
  
He felt calmer then when he first woke up that day. Even with the news that Harry could be in more trouble then they thought. None of it seemed to phase him. He had past the worry onto his mum, and he felt good about that. He knew that his mum could take the information he gave her and put it to good use, maybe she could even find Harry. Ron sat in his chair with his eyes closed enjoying the feeling of doing something right.  
  
He dropped off to sleep. When he woke up he felt relaxed and rested. Ginny was sitting in the chair next to his reading a magazine. He stretched out his long legs and arms without leaving his set. Ron rubbed his eyes, and yawned. It seemed like such a long time ago that Sirius had waked him up.  
  
"Sleep well?" Ginny asked him. She closed the magazine that she had been reading, and put it in her lap. Ron nodded to her. "That's good. Mum isn't back yet, and it's almost eleven."  
  
Ron jumped out of his chair. He spun around looking for a clock, but he couldn't find one. Ginny pointed above the desk in the front of the lobby. Two clocks were on the wall. One showed where all the doctors and other staff of the hospital were and the other told what time it was. It read ten forty. Ron couldn't believe that he had slept so long. He had gotten back to the lobby around three o'clock, and hadn't fallen asleep until sometime after four.  
  
"I wasn't going to let you miss seeing Hermione. I was going to wake you," Ginny said. She was standing right behind him.  
  
"I know," Ron said simply.  
  
"You better get going. I'll stay here and tell mum when she gets back. What room is Hermione in?" Ginny asked him.  
  
Ron told her, and then he took off back the way he had come earlier. The hospital had become much quieter. The torches burned low casting shadows over the long corridors. Ron slowed down when he reached the fourth floor corridor where Hermione's room is. The blue flames were gone, beds no longer lined the hallway, and the corridor itself was devoid of any movement. Ron tried to walk swiftly down the stretch corridor without making any noise, but his shoes made a very sold clumping noise.  
  
Ron's legs grow weak with each step that brought him closer to Hermione. He hoped with every part of him that he would be able to see her. He got the feeling that he wasn't alone anymore. He quickened his pace. He watched the numbers above the doors go up. He was almost there.  
  
"Aaagh!" A figure stepped from the shadows startling Ron, who yelled in surprise.  
  
"Ah, so we meet again boy."  
  
Ron stumbled backwards due to the fear he felt. He was about to run, but his feet wouldn't move. He was frozen in place, contemplating running away or pressing forward to see Hermione. He stayed.  
  
"You're late. I told you to meet me here at eleven to see you friend. It's five after." He held out a hand for Ron to shake. "The name's Diggamor. Dan Diggamor," he said. Ron now recognized him from before. Ron shook Diggamor's hand.  
  
"Sorry 'bout giving you such a fright."  
  
"No problem." Diggamor led Ron to Hermione's room. He uttered a spell under his breath. When the door clicked open he pushed it wide open, and held it for Ron to go through first.  
  
The room was dimly lit. There were no decorations on the walls, just white paint. Ron's eyes rested on the bed below the window on the opposite side of the room, and a wood chair set next to the bed. He couldn't take his eyes off the bed; he could hardly see the small girl lying there.  
  
"Go on boy," Diggamor put his hand on Ron's shoulder and gave him a nudge towards the bed. Ron stumbled forward.  
  
He crossed over to the bed. He pulled the chair next to Hermione and sat down. He studied her in the half-light. Hermione's newly straightened hair already started to get its bushiness back. Her face was pale and ghost like, her eyes were closed, and her pale lips parted ever so slightly.  
  
Ron reached out a hand to touch her face. "Please wake up Hermione," he whispered while he stroked her cheek, which was cold under his fingers. He willed her eyes to open, but nothing happened.  
  
"So, I was just reading her clipboard, it doesn't say what curse was used on her." Diggamor stood on the other side of the bed with the clipboard in his hand. He looked down at Hermione, studying her still figure.  
  
Ron looked up at Diggamor. "What do you mean it doesn't have the curse written there?" Ron reached out a hand for the clipboard, "Let me see it." Dan Diggamor handed it over. The clipboard had only one paper on it with the very basics about Hermione, but some of the information wasn't right.  
  
Hermione's name was spelled wrong, it said she was a pure blood, and that she was fifteen. Ron pointed this out to Diggamor who couldn't believe it.  
  
"Who's her doctor?" He asked Ron.  
  
"I think someone named Johnson, but I'm not sure."  
  
"Hmm, Johnson? Ah yes, Old Johnson." Diggamor shook his head as if disgusted.  
  
Ron handed the clipboard back. "Is that bad. I mean isn't he a good doctor?" Ron took Hermione's hand that had been lying on top of the covers in his own.  
  
"Well, you see Doctor Johnson is very young and inexperienced when it comes to taking care of people. He was a veteran before he became a doctor. A lot of the doctors here were top of there class, or at least in the top five, so it was a real shock when they hired him. He was twentieth in his class, sad really. He almost didn't pass his curse boards, and that was what he was majoring in.  
  
"A lot of the doctors here, myself included, protest his job here. We did every thing in our power to keep him out, but he won out. Three things got him this job: money was a big one, he has lots of it, and his family name had a lot to do with it. He is from one of those old pureblooded families. And when you combine an old family name with money, you get a kind of status that people can't go against."  
  
"So your saying that he bought his way in?" Questioned Ron.  
  
Diggamor nodded. "Not only that, but he bought his teachers out when he was still studying, to let him pass. It shows that he doesn't know what he's doing. I mean look at this clipboard. It isn't the first time he got information on a patient wrong." Diggamor looked at Ron like he was sizing him up. "I shouldn't have told you all that, but I felt like I had too."  
  
Ron didn't know what to say so he just sat in his chair holding Hermione's hand. Dan Diggamor read over the clipboard again, and then he drew out his wand. Ron watched him mutter spells that seemed to do nothing.  
  
Diggamor pocketed his wand again. He put the clipboard back on that holder at the foot of the bed. "I'll be back," he said to Ron. "I have to go and see some people." With that he swept out of the room leaving Ron alone with Hermione.  
  
"Hey Hermione. Why don't you wake up? I didn't think you would like people fusing over you like this. Besides don't you want to do some studying so you can be ahead of everyone when we get back to school?" Ron didn't know what to say to her. He didn't know if she could hear him.  
  
"I miss you Hermione. We all miss you." Ron stayed silent for along time, just thinking about nothing. He had been sitting there for a half- hour when the door to the room swung open.  
  
"Mum!" Ron said when he saw Mrs. Weasley standing in the doorframe with Diggamor behind her. Ron jumped to his feet and went over to her. Molly hugged him, and then she went over to Hermione.  
  
"She was out in the hallway looking for you," said Diggamor indicating Mrs. Weasley. "I told her what I told you about Dr. Johnson."  
  
Molly started to fuss over Hermione. She kept saying things like "Poor dear," and "Blessed child." She took out her wand and conjured a thick blanket out of the air. She covered Hermione in it.  
  
"I think you should check her out of here," said Diggamor.  
  
Molly looked up sharply, as did Ron. "What do you mean check her out of here?" Molly asked in shock. "This is the best hospital around." Ron nodded his agreement.  
  
"I think you should check her into a family clinic. Perhaps mine?"  
  
"What did you say your name was again?" This question seemed to startle Diggamor.  
  
"Dan Diggamor." He stepped forward and handed Molly a card. She looked at it for a minute and then slipped it into her pocket.  
  
She smiled at him. "You're the Dr. that Dumbledore had mentioned. He only used your first name, so I wasn't sure, but that card is the same as the one he gave me."  
  
"Is Dumbledore here?" Diggamor asked. He looked rather excited.  
  
"No he isn't. He went to look for you, at your house and at the clinic. Why are you working here tonight?" Molly asked him.  
  
"They called me to see if I could help out with the new curse victims that came in today. I'm sure that he told you that," said Diggamor referring to Ron.  
  
Molly looked at Ron and then back to Diggamor. "How soon can you let her into your clinic?" She grinned at the idea of doing something spontaneous for once.  
  
"As soon as you check her out of this place."  
  
Molly turned to Ron, "Go tell everybody that we are taking Hermione out of here. Tell them to Floo on home, I'll be along shortly." They all walked over to the door and left Hermione alone.  
  
When he got back to the lobby he found most of the Weasleys asleep in chairs. Ginny was the only one who was still awake. She looked up from her magazine when he came into the lobby.  
  
"How did it go?"  
  
"Not bad. Help me wake everybody, I've got to tell them what happened then we're going home." 


	8. The Wand and The Floo

The Wand and The Floo  
  
Chapter Eight  
  
Petunia and George stepped into the Leaky Cauldron. Petunia still had a hold on Pig. They walked into the small, walled courtyard. Petunia watched George count the bricks and then tap one of them. She remembered Lily showing her that the first time she had been there.  
  
"Come on Petunia," said Lily. Lily took Petunia by the arm and pulled her out of the dingy pub. Petunia, Lily, and Lily's friends had been drinking Butterbeers. They had all enjoyed Petunia's reaction to the warm drink.  
  
"Do you like it Pet?" asked Sirius.  
  
Petunia shot him a nasty look. "Don't call me that!" she whined. Sirius mimicked her, and soon everyone at their table was calling her Pet. Petunia tried to laugh it off, but she couldn't.  
  
"Leave her alone guys," said Lily wrapping one arm around Petunia's shoulders.  
  
"Yeah, call off the dogs," joked James. That comment sent Sirius, Remus, Peter, and James into a fit of laughter. Lily shook her head at their childish antics.  
  
They finished their drinks, paid the tab and headed out to the courtyard. Petunia looked around the small courtyard, but couldn't come up with a reason for being there. All she knew was that it needed a good dusting. "What are we doing here?" she asked.  
  
"Just wait and see Petunia." Sirius gave her a very cocky grin. She smirked back at him. He pulled out his wand and counted some bricks, and then tapped one of them. Petunia watched in amazement as a large archway formed in the once solid wall.  
  
"Oh my god." Petunia breathed when the archway stopped growing and she could see into Diagon Alley on the other side.  
  
"Petunia, Hun, the proper wizard saying is 'For Merlin's sake," 'Sirius said in a high voice.  
  
"Come on you guys!" Lily called over her shoulder. Sirius grabbed her hand to pull her through the archway. She followed looking over her shoulder.  
  
"For Merlin's sake!"' she said as the Archway closed so quickly after her. Lily grinned at her.  
  
"Catch on quickly, don't you?" teased James. "So Petunia where do you want to go first?"  
  
"I have no idea," Petunia said looking around the crowded alley.  
  
"Well, there are so many stores that you can choose from. Do you want to go to the robe shop, the pet store, the wand shop, or would you like something to eat?" James listed off some of the stores he though Petunia might like.  
  
Petunia's eyes lit up. "The wand shop," she squealed. Once again all of Lily's friends laughed at her reaction. Petunia didn't mind. She had heard from her mother how excited Lily had been the first time she had gone shopping here.  
  
The group of kids made their way down the packed alley to Ollivander's:  
  
Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. Petunia pulled out of the memory.  
  
Oh, how she missed that day.  
  
"So how many times have you been here?" asked George.  
  
"Only the once with Lily, Sirius, and the rest of their friends. We had so much fun that day." She told him. She didn't want to go into the details with him; she wanted to keep them for herself.  
  
"I bet that was fun." George led the way to Eeylops Owl Emporium. When they got there he held the door open for her, and he bowed her inside with a flourish of his arm. He grinned at her when she laughed at him.  
  
"That was something Sirius would always do for Lily and me," she told him. She had to blink her eyes many times until she could see in the dimly lit building. Everything was a bit fuzzy and she could hardly see George. A lot of yellow eyes looked at her, giving her the creeps.  
  
"It must have been fun hanging out with them."  
  
"It was, but James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter were big time trouble makers. Lily would write me and tell me all about their last prank. Boy did they do some funny pranks."  
  
"My brother Fred and I worship them," George said.  
  
"You're kidding, right?" Petunia said sounding a bit skeptical. "How do you know about them? Harry couldn't have told you much."  
  
"Well," George launched into his story about getting the Marauder's Map and how they figured out how to use it.  
  
"Oh, but how do you know that the people you are talking about are James and his friends?"  
  
"Harry told us their nicknames from school," George told her.  
  
"I see, you should tell that story to Sirius, he would really like to hear that, Remus too." Petunia added as an after thought. "Remus is still around, right?" George nodded as he led her through the store to the counter.  
  
George tapped the bell that sat on the counter. One clear note rung out through the store, making the owls squawk and hoot, Pig on the other hand didn't do anything.  
  
A plump lady with gray hair, large eyes, and pointed nose came out of the darkness to stand behind the counter. She had startled Petunia with her sudden appearance. "Yes?" She drew out her 'S' making a hissing nose.  
  
"Um," Petunia didn't know what to say. She didn't want to tell the lady the she had clubbed the owl over the head with a very heavy cast-iron frying pan, but she did anyway. The lady behind the counter looked aghast at Petunia. She had then swooped down on Petunia and snatched the owl right out of Petunia's hand.  
  
"You may leave him with me and come back tomorrow, but before you go I need the birds name?" George told her that its name was Pig and she gave him a very reproachful look. George led the way back out of the store and back onto the alley.  
  
"So where do you want to go now?" George asked her.  
  
"The wand store," Petunia said without hesitating. She was so excited. They walked along in silence, not knowing each other well enough to uphold a long conversation. They had gone by a few stores before either one spoke again.  
  
"Why were you always so mean to Harry? What did he do to you?" George had stopped walking and he was glaring at her.  
  
"What?" Petunia was shocked by his question. Anger flashed in her eyes, making George take a step away from her. Petunia had to fight the desire of wanting to hit him. "You would never understand!" She hissed at him. She turned away so she wouldn't have to face him anymore, and she found herself looking into the face of Mr. Ollivander himself.  
  
She jumped with fright. "Good afternoon, M'dear," he said in a soft voice. He looked just like he had when she had first meet him.  
  
"Good afternoon too you Sir," she replied.  
  
"I'm glad to see you again, Petunia. Please come in. Why don't we have a cup of tea before we find your wand," he turned and pulled open the door to his shop. Petunia could hear a bell tinkle somewhere in the back of the store.  
  
"How do you remember me? It was years ago that I was here."  
  
He looked back at her, studying her to see if she was worthy of the answer. "M'dear, how do you remember me, after all these years?"  
  
Petunia was a taken a back by his question. "I guess because I've never meet someone like you before. You're so different then anyone that I have ever known, even other wizards."  
  
"That's right M'dear, now just think about what you said for a moment. You are unique, special like you said. I've known my fare share of Muggles and you're not like any of them." He smiled at her. "Now why don't you come into my office and we can have tea and talk a bit.  
  
Mr. Ollivander led her through a maze of wand boxes and through a beaded door. His office was also crowded with long skinny boxes no doubt containing a single well-polished wand. A small table sat in a corner with three chairs around it. One dingy window looked at another building. Lamps glowed orange on the walls. A shiny, metal teakettle set in the middle of the table. Mr. Ollivander tapped the kettle with his wand, and as soon as he touched it, steam gushed from its spout, giving off a shrill whistle. He poured two cups of piping hot tea into two lustrous, blue teacups with matching saucers.  
  
"Sit down, M'dear," he told her. "So tell me about yourself, did you ever think you had any magic in your blood?" Petunia shook her head. "Well isn't that curious. Something must have triggered it sometime along the road of life. Some kids have something happen to them and they use their magic. Let me tell you about this one boy. His family thought he was a squib, so I believe his uncle dropped him out of a window and the boy bounced. Magic!" he cried. "Some people, like Harry, have strange things happen to them, and others still don't know until they get into a magic school. So tell me M'dear when you found out that you're a witch."  
  
"Well the first time I came here and grabbed hold of that wand. I felt something," Petunia said.  
  
"No, that wasn't the firsts time. Think back farther. What was the first sign that Lily showed?"  
  
Petunia couldn't think of anything. She looked up from her steaming cup of tea at Mr. Ollivander. He smiled at her, encouraging her to go back farther. He watched her eyes grow wide as she remembered. "Lily made something fly at me. It was a glass dish or something like that. I made it stop in mid air and it burst sending broken glass all over the kitchen. We both got cut, but Lily was really bleeding. I went to her to help her. I put a towel on her gash to stop the bleeding, but she cried out when I touched her. I had to take a piece of glass out of the cut, before I could stop the bleeding. The cut heeled before our eyes. We never told anyone about that day," Petunia was scared by that memory. She had spent so much time trying to forget.  
  
"That's right, M'dear," he said. They talked over four more cups of tea. He told her all about the Wizarding world. Petunia listened with rapt attention.  
  
It was starting to grow late as he led Petunia back into the main part of the store. "Do your remember what I promised you the last time you were here?" They were standing in front of the window that had the sign in it and one wand on a faded purple cushion.  
  
"Yes. You said the next time I came in here, you would have my wand ready for me." Petunia was shaking. She was dying to feel the wand in her hand again.  
  
"Yes, that is what I told you," he said. Petunia's heart sunk, she didn't have any money to buy the wand. Her disappointment must have shown on her face because Mr. Ollivander looked worried. "M'dear what is it?  
  
Don't look so heart broken."  
  
"I don't have any money for the wand!" she wailed, tears were threatening to spill down her checks.  
  
"Oh pish, posh. Don't be silly!" He said merrily. Petunia watched as he took the purple cushion from the window, wand and all. "Sorry the cushion faded a bit, but the wand is as good as ever. I polished it once a week." He handed the wand to her.  
  
"Go on, try it out. If my memory severs me, and I do believe that it does, you didn't get to test the wand when you were last here," he said.  
  
"No Sir. Remus took it away before I had the chance," she replied. She didn't have to wave the wand around to know it was the one for her. She could feel it.  
  
"Right, Remus Lupin. He must have sensed it. He is also one that I would say is special, but I can't tell you that story. You'll find out if you need to know. Now go on and give it a wave. I've kept you from your friend long enough."  
  
At first Petunia didn't know whom he was talking about, but then she saw George sitting outside the shop with his back to them. Petunia lifted her hand high above her head, and brought her arm swishing down. Silver and gold sparks shot out of the wand. The sparks lit up the store, and so bright that George looked in through the window and could only see two silhouettes standing in front of a window. People came running thinking the building had blown up, most just ran away, not wanting to get hurt.  
  
Petunia couldn't see, the light was so bright, she feared for her eyesight. Then the show of silver and gold died down, and was gone completely. "For Merlin's sake!" she cried.  
  
"Pardon me?" Ollivander asked her.  
  
"Um, nothing," she said. She was blinking her eyes trying to get them to focus, but they wouldn't. The bell sounded again. George came into the store.  
  
"Are you all right Petunia? Mr. Ollivander?" George asked. They both nodded.  
  
"Well, shall I wrap that wand up for you M'dear?" Petunia handed it to him. He put it in a spare box and wrapped it up for her. When he gave it back he suggested that they all go outside to get some fresh air. They walked over to the ice cream pallor, and Mr. Ollivander ordered them all an ice cream cone.  
  
Petunia's eyes quickly adjusted to the light as she ate her ice cream. As soon as Mr. Ollivander finished his cone, he bid them farewell. He told Petunia not to use her wand until she had proper training. And then he left Petunia and George alone eating their dripping cones.  
  
"So, um, I'm really sorry about what I said earlier." George didn't look at her when he apologized.  
  
Petunia looked at him. He didn't sound like he was really sorry. Petunia knew that he had meant what he had said, but he had a point, and she knew it. "That's okay," she said. They finished their cones without talking.  
  
They headed back towards the pub, walking a different way so Petunia could see more of the stores. "Does this place look like it did when you were first here?" Asked George.  
  
"Oh no. Not at all."  
  
"Really? What's different about it?"  
  
"Well," said Petunia, "For starters the wand shop didn't use to be there. It was a few stores down. There was no ice cream parlor, the street didn't have as many turns, and that big white building over there was not in  
  
Dragon Alley at all."  
  
"What happened to make it all change?"  
  
"Well, about a week after I came this evil wizard guy with a peculiar sounding name, Voldemort, or something like that-" George gasped, and he was staring at her with his mouth hanging open. "What?" asked Petunia confused "What did I say?"  
  
"You said You-know-how's name, and you mocked him."  
  
Now Petunia was really confused. Whose name? Voldemort?"  
  
"Stop saying that name!" George practically bellowed at her. George could tell she had no idea what he was talking about, so he told her about him being the most feared dark wizard. "Not very many people will say his name. We call him You-know-who."  
  
"That's silly," Petunia said laughing a bit. George laughed a bit too, but it was clear he didn't think it was that silly.  
  
"Do you want to go anywhere before we leave? Maybe the robe store so you can have some robes to wear?"  
  
"No, that's okay. I have some old robes that I wore to Lily's wedding.  
  
That was the last time I saw her. I didn't bring the robes, I'll have to go home to get some things."  
  
"All right." They made their way back to the Leaky Cauldron and used Floo Powder to get back to The Borrow.  
  
* * *  
  
Harry groaned, for what seemed like the hundredth time. He was awake, but he didn't remember ever waking up, or going to sleep. He put his hand to his head that ached, and he found a lump on it. He groaned again.  
  
He sat up on the small sofa and looked around the room he was in. He had no idea where he was. He recognized nothing in the small room. He looked at the plane white walls, with a few photos on them. The people in the pictures moved a bit, but Harry didn't care, he wanted to know where he is. He looked at the odd objects covered in white sheets. He looked at the shabby furniture and Davey Gudgeon who was sitting in a chair next to the red sofa that Harry sat on.  
  
"Hullo," Gudgeon said.  
  
"Hi," Harry said.  
  
"Do you know who I am? What about the Quidditch tryouts? Do you remember them?" Gudgeon asked Harry.  
  
Harry's head felt foggy and he didn't know what to make of Gudgeon. Harry though he know him from somewhere, but he wasn't really sure, and that was what he told him.  
  
"I see. My name is Davey Gudgeon-" Harry cut him off.  
  
"Professor Lupin talked about you once. The Whomping Willow gave you that scar," Harry said triumphantly.  
  
"Gudgeon looked surprised. "He did, did he?" Harry nodded. "Well the story about my eye is true, but I don't think I need to tell that story, saying that you already know it. But Harry, I want you to tell me everything you can remember about the Quidditch tryouts. I want to know everything you can remember."  
  
Harry told him everything about the tryouts. As he got farther into the story about the tryouts, the memories became clearer and easier to describe. Gudgeon stopped Harry when he started to tell him about his encounter with the twins and Bill.  
  
"How many people know that you were there, Harry?"  
  
"Oh, just everybody who had come to the tryouts, and those three. They said they were going to come back for me on the second day of the tryouts. They promised not to tell anyone."  
  
"I see." was all Gudgeon said for a moment. "Please continue, Harry," and Harry did. For about a half hour Harry talked, seldom interrupted. When he did finish his story, ending with falling of the carpet and knowing that he was safely hidden, his voice was raw.  
  
"Sounds like you had quite a little ordeal, if I may say so Harry." He gave a gruff laugh. "I contacted Dumbledore. I sent him an owl before you woke up. You are welcome to stay here until Dumbledore comes to get you." Harry looked around the room again and saw no windows.  
  
"Are you hungry Harry?" Harry shook his head no. Even though he couldn't remember the last meal he ate he wasn't the less bit hungry. "All right then. I have to go out for a while. I would like you to stay in this room; I don't want you wandering about until I get time to show you around. Perhaps you can get some much need rest?"  
  
"All right." Harry didn't feel like poking around in Gudgeon home, even if he did have energy to drag himself for the sofa. Gudgeon bid Harry farewell, he then disappeared through a door that was across from Harry's place on the sofa. Gudgeon went into the room beyond the door to fast for Harry to see what lay beyond it. Harry could have sworn he heard a lock switch, locking him out. That did get Harry's interests.  
  
Harry didn't want to sit on the sofa anymore, but he had to until he was sure that Gudgeon had left. When he was sure he was alone, Harry got up off the sofa and started to explore the room he was locked in. It turned out that, after a few minutes of poking around, Harry decide that the room wasn't that bad off a place to be stuck in. He found many wired things under the white sheets. Many of the things under the sheets, Harry had never seen before. Harry did, however recognize a Foe Mirror that was hidden. When Harry looked into the glass all he saw were whips of shadows, no real foes.  
  
When Harry had finished peeking under each sheet he moved on to the pictures. Harry was shocked when he felt that he had been there before. Everything in the pictures brought back a hazy feeling, like memories hanging on the wall. He stood transfix looking at them. Not for the life of him could he bring the haze into a crisp memory, but yet he knew that he had been there, yet he couldn't think of a time he had ever gone to a party like that. Harry didn't think he had ever been to a party, besides the one the Weasley's gave him. After standing under the pictures for a long while he concluded that he had gone to a party like that with his mum and dad.  
  
Harry crossed across the room; back over to the sofa to sit down he wished he knew what time at was. No clocks hung on the walls, or anywhere. Harry had gotten hungry, but he had no food. Harry got up off the sofa again and passed around the room.  
  
He walked around and around the table. He stopped to look at the door that lead out of the room he was in. "I wonder..." Harry didn't finish his thought. He went over to the door and tugged on the doorknob. The door wouldn't budge. "Oh come on, open up," Harry whined, tugging on the doorknob again. To his surprise the door opened, and throw Harry backwards into the table.  
  
"Well that's more like it," he said as he went into the room. As soon as he stepped into the room, the heat for the fire blasted him, making him gag. With the hot air came back all the memories of his dream. Harry staggered back out of the room like he was hit in the stomach.  
  
When Gudgeon appeared in the fireplace by means of Floo Powder, Harry was sitting on the sofa where he could see into the next room. Gudgeon stared at him, and Harry glared back.  
  
"I want to know who you are," Harry said fiercely. He no longer trusted Gudgeon. Gudgeon looked taken aback.  
  
"What do you mean Harry?"  
  
"You know what I mean." Harry said. "Getting by the Death Eaters, the dream, the guy you were talking to in the fire, and the memory charm"  
  
"Harry, Harry. You should be on bended knee thanking me for getting you out of harm's way." He studied Harry. "But yes, I suppose you do have reason to be fearful of me."  
  
"Why? What did you do? I want to know," Harry said. He got up off the sofa to face Gudgeon face on. The large table was between them, keep them a safe distance apart, or so Harry hoped. "Who were you talking too, the guy in the fire?"  
  
"Don't worry about him, Harry. Why don't you tell me what got you so worked up." It wasn't a question, but a demand.  
  
"No," Harry said. "You answer my question first. I want to know who you really are, and what kind of party that was that I dreamed about. The people were talking about the tryouts; they seemed to be planning something and the wanted to know if some one was there yet. They were talking about me, weren't they?"  
  
"Come know Harry. Try to calm down," Gudgeon said. He was shifting his weight from one foot to the other, and he was wringing his hands. He started to move around the table to get to Harry, but Harry started to go around the table too.  
  
"I will not calm down!" Harry thundered at Gudgeon. "Those people were in on what happened yesterday, or what ever day I was at the tryouts. You were in on it somehow. Was it your job to get me to that inn, to make sure I would be there when Voldemort showed up?" Harry was still yelling.  
  
"So Harry, you must have gotten good at putting puzzles together when you don't have all the pieces. Those people in that dream they are all Death Eaters. That room in you dream, same as the one just beyond that door. Those pictures on the wall, there were taken that night you dreamed about. I had gone up in rank in the Death Eaters, so it was my duty to hold a get- together. I am working my way up the ranks.  
  
"I was in charge to bring you to the tryouts, out of Dumbledore's reach, away from everything that protects you. I had sent to fellow Death Eaters to that party of yours to find some one you care about and curse that person. We used that girl, Hermione, to get at you. And you were easy to manipulate. You went there guilt ridden, physical and mentally fatigued, and pushed almost to the breaking point.  
  
"We only needed you to get chewed out by that friend of yours. I've never seen a girl easier to control, or one so good at slapping the Boy Wonder in the face. We had to make it look like she was sorry for hitting you, so we made her collapse into a fit of tears. It worked rather well." Gudgeon was about to continue to tell Harry what they had done next, but Harry stopped him.  
  
"Why do you all have to be such cowards? Even Voldemort is too afraid of a scrawny sixteen-year-old boy. He has to get stupid fools to do his bidding for him. Has to get fools like you to manipulate people who have nothing to do with it. If Voldemort really wanted to show off his powers, make everybody fear him, he would have come to find me himself."  
  
"Harry, you should know that Voldemort has no intention to show his powers by getting ride of you. He wants you to join him. He has great plans for you." Gudgeon stayed perfectly calm.  
  
"We didn't know if you had snapped yet when you had gone off to sleep, so your dear old friend Wormtail-"  
  
Harry longed at him. He had tried to jump over they table to attack Gudgeon, who pulled out his wand. Gudgeon, using a spell shot Harry back into the sofa. "As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, Wormtail was distorting your dreams, but then that red head kid woke you up. Dumbledore had to put a sleeping charm on you.  
  
"The two Death Eaters that were there had to come up with a new way to get you to that Inn. They came up with the idea to enchant that broom of yours. They made it so it would bring you to me. You didn't even have to think about where you were flying, all you know was that you had to leave. I believe you felt the dark magic that we were using, but you just put it out of your mind.  
  
"Two times we thought we lost you, but as it turned out your were reading the paper, and the second time you were in a joke shop."  
  
"You're lying!" Harry shouted, "The guy at the joke shop told me go to the inn, you and your Death Eaters had nothing to do with it!"  
  
Gudgeon studied Harry. "You're wrong boy. True the owner of the joke shop told you to come to the Inn, we had nothing to do with that, but we did bring you there. It didn't matter where he told you to go, you would have gone to the Inn.  
  
"After we had attacked, we spent hours trying to find you. We combed the grounds off the Inn. We know you were there, we saw you fall, but we weren't prepared to fight the overgrown underbrush that covered you."  
  
"What about that dream? Did you do that too?" Harry was in a state of mind numbing shock.  
  
"I was about to get to that Harry. Don't make me teach you a lesson. The food I gave you when you woke up, it was laced with a sleeping potion. The potion made you have that dream, but somehow it went wrong. The dream didn't go as planed. He-who-must-not-be-named never told me what was to happen.  
  
"I had just come from a conference with him. He is ready for me to bring you to him. He warned me that the Imperius Curse doesn't work on you, so I've been told just to use force." Gudgeon walked over to Harry, who was to stunned to get off the sofa, he had nowhere to go. Using his wand, Gudgeon made ropes spring around Harry's wrist, and feet.  
  
Gudgeon pulled Harry up to his feet. Harry could walk, the binds at his feet were so tight he could even creep along, but somehow they were standing in front of the fireplace. Gudgeon tossed Floo powder into the flames; he pulled Harry into the fire. Gudgeon spoke, but Harry didn't understand what he said, but he tried to remember what it sounded like.  
  
As Harry was spinning he could feel Gudgeon tight grasp on his arm. Something knocked his arm, and it gave him an idea. Harry started to twist and wiggle. He yanked his arm out of Gudgeon grasp. Harry fell out of the Floo network, leaving Gudgeon to spin around until he reached Voldemort empty handed.  
  
Harry fall out of a fireplace. He landed face down on a wood floor. A Wizarding family looked down at him form the table were they were eating a meal. "Untie me!" Harry yelled.  
  
  
  
A/N: Oh, I'm so mean too you guys. I can never not end on a cliffhanger. Coming up soon: Can Harry elude the Death Eaters after escaping Gudgeon? Harry struggles to find not only a safe place where he can rest and get a good meal, but also one where his presence doesn't bring up any unwanted dinner guest. Petunia's return to Privet Drive, where she finds her dusty hope chest in the attic. Upon opening the chest, she not only finds the robes she wore at Lily's wedding, but a gift from her sister.  
  
If you would like to be notified of a new chapter, leave your e-mail in your review. 


	9. Meet The Main's

center Harry Potter; Fifth Year Unchanging center  
  
  
  
The flames had grown closer. The very earth had been ablaze for many days. The red tongues lashed out and scorched all that, and soon the red tongues would lash out, scorching anything within reach. So much had already been lost to the fire's kiss, and suffocating smoke. The orange glow had almost surrounded the battered remains of a once lively creature, now it lay frozen, cursed by Death Eaters. Struggling frantically against an invisible hold as the heat of the fire intensifies. It couldn't break the curse that held it. And then the fire was upon it, eating away from the bottom up, but the pain from the fire slowly turning it into ash, was enough to break the curse.  
  
When it was free from the invisible bind, shivers coursed through its body, trying to shake off the flames. It was a damp day, like all the ones that followed the dire day after the Inn had been destroyed, and all those lives had been lost, but now was not the time to stop and mourn for fallen friends. The wet air made the fire sizzle angrily and smoke. Fog encased the fire, but it wouldn't die.  
  
Flying high, up into the clouds. The thinning air, wet with a coming rain, made the fire spit in furry, about to lose its pray. Still shivers coursed through its body, and with a defeated fizzle the fire died. Flying freely now, one lone carpet disappeared into the late evening sky. Flying away from the fear that had cloaked the land below, it soared faster than any bird and most broomsticks could ever travel. One mission was set deep in its very fibers, to find the boy that caused all the fear.  
  
   
  
center *~*~* center  
  
   
  
"Untie me!" Harry yelled at the people looking down at him from the table were they were eating. Harry knew that Gudgeon and every other Death Eater would be looking for him. A tall wizard stooped to untie Harry's feet, and an equally tall and a slender woman was untying his hands.  
  
Harry shook his head to get his bangs out of his eyes. His glasses were gone, and most likely broken.  
  
"Daddy, Daddy its Harry Potter. I can see his scar!" A little girl yelled in her high voice. No sooner as she had said this, five faces were staring intently at his scar. Harry could feel his face grow hot with embarrassment. His hands and feet were still tied together, temporally forgotten.  
  
"Daddy untie him. Harry Potter shouldn't be tied up," It was the same little girl who had noticed his scar. The man's face left his range of view. Soon, with some muttering from behind, Harry his hands and feet where free. A boy who looked a few years older then him pulled him to his feet.  
  
The boy stuck out his hand for Harry to shake. "Its an honor to meat you, Harry Potter. My name is Salem Main." Harry was struck by how much Salem sounded like Percy. He made Harry home sick.  
  
"Its nice to meet you too, Salem." Harry turned to the man who untied him, thinking that he was head of the house, " I really need to be leaving. I'm sorry for interrupting your meal." Harry wanted to go as quickly as he could. He had to warn them about the Death Eaters. "If anyone comes here looking for me, you haven't seen me okay? If they don't believe you, just tell them where I went. Don't make them angry." They were all looking at him, like he was crazy. The little girl was tugging on his tattered robe.  
  
"Harry," she said. Harry bent to her level, and she whispered in his ear, "Did you get into trouble, Harry?"  
  
"Don't worry about me," He stood back up, ready to leave, but the little girl was tugging on his robes again. He bent back down.  
  
"I'm Maggie Main, and I'm four years old." She looked proud of herself. Salem picked her up and swung her onto his back. She gave a shriek of delight followed by a hail of giggles.  
  
"You really must stay for the rest of the meal, we have plenty," said the lady who had helped untie him. Harry looked at their table. Each plate looked half full, yet hardly touched, like the meal had just began. Harry didn't see any more food.  
  
"You can sit next to me, Harry, and I'll give you my potato," said Maggie.  
  
"Quiet Maggie," said her mother. "Please stay for dinner, Harry."  
  
"I can't. I'm sorry, but you really don't understand. I have to go." Harry didn't want to be rude, but they wouldn't like it if a whole bunch of Death Eaters came to dinner to.  
  
She was going to protest, but the man put his hand on her should and she didn't say anything else. "Is there anything that we can offer you if you can't stay for dinner?" he asked Harry. "Maybe a warmer cloak. It's very cold outside."  
  
"That would be great," Harry replied. When the two adults went off to find an extra cloak Harry turned to Salem, "Could you tell me what day it is?"  
  
"Goodness, you don't know what day it is?" He asked Harry. "Its August seventh. Do you need the year too? Just joking with you."  
  
"Thanks," said Harry. The two adults came back into the room. She was carrying a thick fur cloak, a hat, and a scarf. He held a pair of boats, with fur lining.  
  
"I know that its summer," she said, "but the nights here get cold very fast. Your up north pretty far."  
  
"Where am I, anyway?" Harry had no idea where he had fallen out of the Floo Network. Salem laughed lightly at him.  
  
"How do you not know where you are?" Salem asked Harry.  
  
"It was the Floo. I sorta just dropped out, and ended up here." Harry was liking Salem less and less whenever he said anything.  
  
"Where were you going, Harry dear?" Asked the mother.  
  
"Well, I was um, going to see, I had to meet..." Harry couldn't tell them that he was about to go see Voldemort face to face against his will. "I was just traveling," Harry said at last. Everybody was looking at him funny. The two adults exchange a look that clearly said something was up.  
  
"Can I travel with you Harry Potter?" The little girl piped up.  
  
"You don't want to come with me, its to cold outside for little girls," Harry told her. She looked at him with sad little eyes, and her bottom lip stuck out.  
  
"So, where am I?"  
  
"You're in Finland, dear. A long way from home. I would offer the fireplace to you, but we haven't had any Floo powder for the longest time," she said  
  
"Oh that's okay. I really must go." The nagging fear that the Death Eaters were going to come at any minute was growing stronger.  
  
"If you must go, then you must go." The father shook Harry's hand. "It's been a pleasure meeting you, Harry Potter."  
  
"Yes a real treat," said Mrs. Main. "Come back and see us if you're are in the area."  
  
"I'll do that," said Harry. He fished around his pocket and found his bag of money. He offered them three galleons for the robes, but they wouldn't take his money. Mrs. Mane wrapped the wool scarf around his neck. She led Harry to the door, with the rest of the family following. Maggie was still on Salem's.  
  
Harry stepped out into the early evening. The wind whipped around him, blowing his cloak around his legs. He had to grab onto his hat to keep it from flying away. He turned back towards the door to say his good-byes. Mrs. Main was pulling Maggie off Salem's back. Harry watched as Maggie ran away on her chubby four-year-old legs. She came back only minutes later with a pair of heavy gloves. She squeezed by her brother and Mr. Main and out to Harry. She held up the gloves to him.  
  
Harry bent down to her leave. "Thank you, Maggie." He handed her the three gold coins that he had try give to Mrs. Mane early. "Take these, Maggie, and when nobody is in the room put them on the table where your mum will find them. Okay?"  
  
She nodded her head, and clutched the coins in one small hand. Harry could see her shaking from the cold. "Go back inside," he told her  
  
"I want to come." She was pouting again. Her mom called her.  
  
"Go on," Harry coached. She hugged his leg and then ran off to her mother. Harry waved at them, and then turned to walk away. Their calls of good- bye followed him; Maggie was the last to stop yelling her good-byes.  
  
As Harry walked, he bent his head to the wind. He held on to his hat with one hand and his cloak with the other. The ground was frozen underneath his boats. Harry walked on, into the darkness. The stars came out, and the moon was will into the dark phase, rose above the treetops, giving off little light as he went.  
  
Harry walked until his legs were numb with the cold, his teeth chattered, and his fingers felt like ice. He plopped down onto the frozen ground stretching out his tired legs. He pulled his gloves off to blow on his raw fingers until they felt warmer. He wished he had a fire to warm up by, and some food to eat.  
  
Harry shoved his hand into his pocket. His cold fingers grasped a warm round object in the cloak's pocket. He withdrew his fingers, bring the warmth with them. In the feeble light, Harry could see that he held two potatoes. Harry bit into one of them. The warmth flowed through him as he ate. He put the other potato back in his pocket, to save for later. With some of his strength back, Harry got up.  
  
He dragged his feet on through the night. The moon slowly moved across the sky as night turned into day. Harry looked up at the Heavens high above him. He hoped for a shooting star to wish upon, but none streaked across the sky. The stars just winked back at him, and the North Star guided him.  
  
He looked back to the way he had come. The sky seemed to hold a secret that it wasn't going to tell. Harry turned back to the Heaves back the way he came. The stars were tinged with a greenish glow. Harry went back to his walking. He went to the south.  
  
Harry didn't pass a single house as he went. His feet felt like lead. The early morning air chilled Harry every time he inhaled, and hung in a frosty patch in front of him. He wanted nothing more but to go to sleep. He stopped on a hilltop and sunk down on his haunches. Harry looked around from where he rested, but saw nothing, except for frozen ground. He rose back to his feet.  
  
His head started to swim. Black blotches passed in front of his eyes. Harry stumbled backward. He flung his arms out to steady himself. He fell, deep into blackness. He was rising up again. Something soft supported his tired limbs, it pillowed his head, and he sunk into it's middle. He wondered vaguely if the flying motorcycle was back. The swaying helped him drift off to sleep.  
  
No dreams troubled him that night as he slept. Not a flash of green, or jeering voices, and no visions of Voldemort. He huddled in his robes, a mere ball, flying through the sky with the wind rush over his face, and through his black hair, threatening to freeze him.  
  
The darkness of the night was fading away. The sun rising in the east set the sky on fire, lighting it up with purples, pinks, and silver on a royal blue canvas. The glow of the sun lit up Harry's face as he traveled southward. He tried to shut out the sun's rays, wanting a few more hours of sleep, but never the less it was a losing battle. Harry sat up to rub the sleep from his eyes, but was promptly knocked back over by a strong gust of wind that made his tired eyes sting.  
  
High above the green land Harry peeked over the edge of a magic carpet. His magic carpet. The carpet wasn't what it had been a few days ago. The fringe by his feet was burnt off; the rich purple fabric had mud ground into the very fibers. The carpet had lost all of its beauty, but not its speed, or its connection with the boy sitting on top of it.  
  
"Where are you taking me?" Harry asked the carpet, running a hand over the rough fabric. The carpet shuddered under his touch. The carpet had slowed its speed, allowing Harry to stay in a seated position.  
  
The carpet had flown higher over the land. The air was thin and had a biting coldness to it. As Harry searched the horizon, he saw nothing but the ground. Trees dotted the landscape, but nothing to tell him where he was, or where the carpet was taking him.  
  
"How did you get away?" Harry asked the carpet. He had been awake for roughly an hour. He didn't expect the carpet to say anything, after all, it was only a flying rug, but it responded to his voice and touch. It was like having a conversation with an infant, you could talk all you wanted, but you would never get a decent conversation. Harry talked on any way.  
  
He marveled in the feeling of not having to do anything to get somewhere. After so much traveling on foot and broom, and even Floo Powder, all of which took away his dwindling strength. The carpet under him had molded itself to Harry to keep him from falling as they banked a curve or when they had to fly low among the trees an dodge them.  
  
When the sun was high overhead, Harry dug into his robe pocket for the other potato. Harry gingerly bit into. He didn't have to hide the face he pulled at the taste. The potato had grown cold, and at some point, it had taken a beating in his pocket. He debated pitching it over the side, and if his stomach had rumbled for the umpteenth time that day, he would have. "Fine," he grumbled, "I'll eat the potato!" He took another bite, his stomach lurched, "This thing better not make my sick." He ate it one small bite after another almost painstakingly.  
  
"You know," he said to the carpet, "I've really got to stop talking to myself." The carpet shuddered almost in agreement.  
  
As dusk settled around them, the carpet made a slow descent. They had come across a small village. The carpet skirted the edge of the row of houses, expertly keeping out of sight. Before the first stars peeked through the darkness that started to cloak the sky, the carpet slowed and stopped next to a craggy wood house. The carpet rippled under Harry, propelling him to the front, until he had to stand. Harry gave the muddy rug a questioning star. The rug gave him a little nudge until he was standing right next to the back door. Harry watched the flying rug closely as it knocked on the door using the tassels on the corner of the rug. The tassels barley made a noise.  
  
"You want me to knock?" It nodded. Harry did so.  
  
No one came. He knocked again, this time louder, still no one came. Harry sat down on the carpet to wait. As soon as the door swung open, the carpet flow out from under Harry, who landed on the ground with a thump.  
  
"What do we have 'ere? A traveler and- and I'll be, one of my rugs!" said a man's voice.  
  
'Oh-oh,' thought Harry, 'he's think I stole one his rugs.' Harry looked up at the man, who stood framed in the doorway with yellow light flooding out around him into the semi-darkness. It was hard for Harry to get a look at the man's face.  
  
A women's voice came from somewhere inside the house, "Is that them?"  
  
The man reached down to help Harry to his feet. "Up you get." He hauled Harry to his feet. "Aye, why don't you come in?" He stepped into the house, and the carpet flow into the house and Harry followed it in.  
  
An old woman met them in the hallway. She had gray hair pulled up into a bun on the top of her head. She had on red robes with silver trim that matched her hair. A pair of small oval spectacles sat on the brim of her nose allowing her to peer over them at Harry. She grinned at him, showing off a set of straight, white teeth.  
  
"Come in, come in!" She pushed open a door farther down the hallway. "I'm so glad you made it! We were getting worried about you dear." The woman wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders. He stared at her. The women keep talking unaware of Harry's confusement. "How's the little one doing? And where's Helena? You didn't leave her to take care of the horses did you?"  
  
"Er- who ma'ma?"  
  
She stopped halfway into a large dinning room. Her eyes bored into Harry's making him squirm. He saw her eyes widen when she found his scar half hidden by his bangs. In one swift motion, she had dropped his arm and had backed away from him. "Oh my," she breathed.  
  
"What's wrong?" Asked the man who let him in. "Nothings wrong with Helena or the baby, is there?" He peered at Harry.  
  
"It's Harry Potter," the women hissed.  
  
"It can't be," he ogled at Harry's forehead, Harry let him. "It is. It really is!"  
  
"Join us for dinner Harry?"  
  
"That would be nice," Harry said. He didn't elaborate on how hungry he really was. The potato hadn't filled his stomach for very long.  
  
"Do you like stew? I could make something else if you prefer."  
  
"Stew would be great." She led Harry to the table in the center of the room. She disappeared throw a doorway, and when she came back with a tray with three steaming bowls of stew, rolls, and a pitcher of milk.  
  
"Here you go. Beef stew, nice and hearty. I dear say that you need to get back your strength. I never would have thought that Harry Potter would show up one cold summer evening on one of my husband's carpets." She handed him the bowl of soup, and a large spoon.  
  
"Thank you," Harry said. He ate the soup, letting it chase away any cold that was left from his long flight on the carpet.  
  
"You are most welcome. It doesn't look like you have been eating much these past few days. Do you need anything else?"  
  
"No thank you," Harry said.  
  
Harry broke off a piece of the roll and dipped it in to the stew. The three of them talked while they ate. The told him that their daughter was coming for a visit along with her husband and baby. Mr. O'Klause, the man that let Harry in, told him about how he had woven and enchanted all the flying carpets for the Magic Carpet Inn.  
  
After dinner Mrs. O'Klause, lead Harry to one of the guest rooms that they wouldn't be used for their daughters visit. The bedroom was very grand, he looked around it after climbing into the bed with the evening news. The walls were white with green vines traveling up the wallpaper. Harry's cloak hung on a hook on the back of the door. The scarf was hanging there too. His boats were off to the side. Two windows were on the right side of the room. Green gauze covered the windows; keeping people from looking in or out. A fireplace was on the wall opposite of the windows. The coals were still hot, but there were no flames were burning behind the gate.  
  
Harry sat up against a stack of pillows with a thick green bedspread covered him. He picked up the newspaper and scanned the front page to find anything that might be of interest to him.  
  
Just below the centerfold, there was a story about a family being killed the day before. Harry scanned the article with a growing fear. Names popped off the page at him. A distraught neighbor found them after seeing strange light coming from the windows. She had heard their cries.  
  
"Dinner is good tonight, Mother," said a boy about Harry's age. Two other boys chorused their approval of the meal. The two boys were young, six or seven. They were eating dinner with their fingers not caring that they should have out grown that.  
  
A row of windows looked out to the north. The boy's mother and older brother had their backs to the windows. When the little boys started to make blowing up sounds to go with the flashes of little that they saw coming from they neighbor's windows their mother was annoyed with their actions.  
  
"Stop it you two!" she snapped at them. "Eat your dinner, and not another peep out of you."  
  
"But mother," whined one of the young boys.  
  
"Not another word!" She snapped back at him. The meal went on in an uncomfortable silence. The boys still watched the lights, but it wasn't until a scream shattered the night air that their mother whipped around to face the windows.  
  
"Good Heavens," she said. Another scream followed the first. The mother turned to her oldest son, "Stay here with the kids. Don't let anyone in until I come back. And put out that fire."  
  
She grabbed her wand that had been sitting on the counter and raced for the door. She crashed through it and shouted over her shoulder to her boys to lock up the house. She reached the Main's house.  
  
She peered through the windows. Robed figure's ransacked the house. The Mains themselves huddled in a corner of the room. Mr. Main wasn't there. She scanned the room for him. She found him lying on the floor by the upturned table.  
  
The little girl was crying. Her brother was trying to make her stop, but it was no use. Their mother was trying to make the intruders see reason. She was indeed pleading for her and her children's life. She was also defending some one else.  
  
"He just a boy. He is of no use to you and your dark lord. He could hardly walk he was so tired."  
  
"Be quiet!" one of the men in black yelled at her. He shot her with a hex and she fall silent. The little girl cried harder. "Make her shout up, boy!" the man in black leaned menacingly close to the little child. She snuggled back into her brother trying to get away.  
  
No one in the house noticed the neighbor who peeked in through the kitchen windows, but she felt like she was being watched. She turned to her home and saw a small face pressed against the window. Her oldest boy was watching her.  
  
She ran towards him. He pulled the window up. "Get the Ministry over here. Tell them that there are Death Eaters of some kind attacking the Main's. Do it quickly." She was about to run back when he grabbed her arm.  
  
"Are they all right?" he asked. She didn't answer. She didn't know what to tell him. "Mother, are they all right," he asked again.  
  
She shook her head. "Just get some help." She ran back to the Main's house. Not much had changed. Some one was standing over the Main's, wand pointed at Maggie, who was crying even harder. Food for their dinner was spilt everywhere. The house seemed to be filling up with smoke.  
  
"He's not here anymore. Kill him." one of the men in black commanded. Two people in black seized a third. A fourth figure in black came forward.  
  
"Avada Kedavra!" shouted the fourth figure. The person in black who the curse was aimed at fell limp in the hands of those who held him up. She couldn't hold back the scream that rose in her throat.  
  
Every person in the room turned to look at her, as she peered trough the window. She wanted to run, but she couldn't. "Do come in and join us, Mrs.," said the man who had just killed some one. She turned to flee, but hands grabbed her.  
  
"Avada Kedavra!" It was the same man who had killed one of his own. A boy no older then Harry watched his mother go limp in the hold of two people in black. The discarded her on the front lawn of the Main's house.  
  
The people went back into the house closing the door behind them. The boy had to fight to keep his younger brothers away from the windows. He watched as green light filled the house repeatedly. He watched as the door open again and people in black robes flooded out of the house. One of them sent the dark mark up into the sky.  
  
The green glow, the same green as the killing curse seeped in through the windows where the boy watched the people Disapparate. The boy turned to his brothers.  
  
"Stay here," he told them. "I don't want you near those windows. Do you understand?" He asked. They both nodded.  
  
The boy went to the door. He crossed the front lawn and found himself standing over his mother. He closed his eyes, and bent down next to her. When he finally opened his eyes he looked right into the shocked and frighten eye's of his Mother. He groped for her hand. It was cold to the touch and stiff. He didn't have to check her pulse to know she was dead.  
  
Before putting her hand, back down he hugged the small hand and kissed it gently. He closed her eyes, but he couldn't forget the look in her haunted eyes. He had heard people say that the dead look like they're sleep, he found that to be wrong. Even after he closed her mouth, she still looked scared. With one last look at his beloved mother, he moved on to the house.  
  
He saw much of the same as his mother, but the horrors that greeted him were beyond nightmares. Everything was broken or smashed right down the to the table. Five unmoving people lay on the floor. The boy didn't know whom to go to first.  
  
A man in a black robe lay a few feet past the door. A scar was visible on his face. It stretched from one side of his face to the other. The boy looked at the other people lying in the room. His neighbors. Mr. Main lay face down by the table, and Mrs. Main lay facing the ceiling with one arm swung over Salem. Salem was hunched over, like he had been sitting up, and had just fallen over. The boy could see something under Salem. Blonde hair could be seen under Salem's chest. The boy recognized the hair as Maggie's  
  
The boy didn't have to feel for a pulse. He could feel death heavy in the air. He walked over to the man in black. He wanted nothing more then to spit in his face, but with a shaking hand, he closed the man's eyes. This man's eyes didn't hold the fear that his mother's had. He seemed to know what was coming for him. He had been ready for it. The boy stepped over the dead body. With his nerves on end, he crossed over to Mr. Main.  
  
He couldn't do it. He couldn't bring himself to try to roll Mr. Main onto his back, so he moved onto Mrs. Main. When he got close to her, the air changed, it felt alive, but he knew Mrs. Main was gone. Memories of coming over to when he was younger to play with Salem flooded his mind. He remembered sitting with the Main's when his own mother wasn't home. Mrs. Main would watch him and give him as many fresh cookies that he could eat.  
  
His hand shook more as he closed her eyes. The look of horror on her face penetrated his mind, just like his mother's glazed look. Every hair on the back of his neck stood up as he felt something move.  
  
He got the impression that he wasn't alone anymore. He was about to flee; the fear was choking him. A scream punctured the air. Five small daggers sunk into his leg. He reeled backwards. Yelling mixed with screams, his yelling.  
  
He pulled his leg away. The five daggers shrank back. His leg burned where it had been punctured, and five lines of blood made rivers down his leg. His knees gave out from underneath him.  
  
He collapsed. He brought his injured leg up to his chest to wrap on arm around it. The hair on his neck again with the feeling of being watched. He raised his eyes up. "Aaagh!" He yelled.  
  
Maggie Main's face was hardly a foot from his own. Her pale eyes were round and haunted. Her face was void of all colors, but a sickly green color that seemed to shimmer on her ghostly skin. She looked deranged with a misshapen grin on her faced. It showed all her pointed baby teeth.  
  
The boy jumped up. He bolted. He didn't turn around when he heard feet following him. He tripped on the thresh whole of the door. He turned and Maggie was right next to him.  
  
"Why do you run?" she asked him. She looked like a broken doll with her blonde hair hanging in wisps around her face, and that grin. It gave her a look that suggests that her lips had stretched to allow all her pointed teeth to show. She reached out a pale green hand to him. She touched his face and he didn't try to cover the fear that made him shake at the four year old's touch. She wasn't a ghost. He could tell that now that her hand was on his face.  
  
He tried to swallow back his fear, this little girl needed him. He could see tears forming in her eyes. His hands still shook, but he picked up the little child that still looked green. He thought that the Death Eaters had done something to her, or it was a reaction to so many killing curses, but that couldn't be right he reasoned. No one else had been green, or had they been?  
  
He stepped out side with Maggie snuggled up to him. Her head rested on his shoulders, her legs rapped around his waist, and her small arms circled his neck. He looked up at the sky, hoping to see a shooting star, but the skull and snake leered at him from the sky. Any wish made on that surly wouldn't come true.  
  
He looked at the little girl who clanged to him. He realized that the ghostly green glow came from the hideous snake and skull.  
  
He sat down on the front step of the house. He looked back towards his own home and saw empty windows look back. He was glad his brothers didn't watch him. He looked back at his mother. He could make her out in the glowing green light, and he broke down.  
  
He sobbed, cursing the people in black who came this dark night and didn't leave until they left four orphans, and shattered two different families. They had killed one of their own, but he couldn't bring himself to grieve for the fallen Death Eater.  
  
He cursed the ministry for not coming when he begged them. They didn't care how powerless they were, how outnumbered, or out-magicked, they hadn't cared. They hadn't saved his mother, or Maggie's mother, or Salem, or Mr. Main. They didn't care that they left a teenage boy in charge of looking to see if anyone lived through the attack. They didn't care that he and Maggie would have nightmares for the rest of their lives. He could only think that they didn't care.  
  
And the boy sitting on the step cursed the very reason that brought the people in black to the Main's house. He cursed the boy who he had heard Mrs. Main defending. He hoped that he would never see the boy they had been looking for.  
  
One question tugged at his mind. Why didn't she die? How could she live through that? Surly they know that she was still there. Was this, sparing her, their idea of mercy? Was it their sick way of showing that they had a soft spot for little blonde headed girls? The questions keep repeating in his head, giving way to more questions.  
  
"Maggie?" his voice sounded hollow and dead. She pulled back from his shoulder, the grin still in place. "How did you live through that?" He hadn't meant to say it that way. He had meant to ask her in a nice way, but his voice was full of bitterness. He tried again. "How was it that you lived, when everybody else died?" All he could hear was bitterness, and he was getting angry, at himself, Maggie, or someone else all together he didn't know.  
  
"Salem told me to play dead, like what our dog use to do. He told me that right before he went to sleep. When is he going to wake up? Mummy and Daddy too?" She looked at him, waiting for him to answer her. He couldn't tell her. He could hardly let himself think that his mother was dead. He didn't tell her anything.  
  
He sat there late into the night, to tired to get up and go into his own house, but he mainly didn't want to have to tell his brothers that their mother was gone forever. Some time late, when he had stopped thinking, and was just staring into the greenish glow the ministry showed up. The pointed their wands at him and Maggie, ready to curse them, until they saw that he was only a boy hold a sleep child. They came closer to him. One of the ministry people tried to take away Maggie, but he snapped his teeth at the hand. He couldn't think of any other way to fend off the new people.  
  
The ministry people were dressed in black, and he now put people in black, and the night with evil. They stared asking him question. He answered, giving as little information as he could. The ministry people stood in groups talking about him. Some went into the house, others went into his house, but he just sat there.  
  
Harry set up in bed. All he could see was green. Sweat poured down his face. He swung his arms out, he was still part way asleep. His fingers grasped onto the thin hangings on the bed's canopy. He realized where he was.  
  
He had fallen asleep about halfway through the article. He saw everything so clearly, when he was asleep, he had felt every fear that the boy and his mother had, and now that he was sitting in the bed, he could still feel their fear. But worst then the fear was the guilt that he felt. He couldn't help but think it was his fault.  
  
"Great," he muttered. "More deaths on my shoulders," he flopped back onto the pillows. "Fun," he breathed as an after thought.  
  
  
  
A/N: Finally I've updated. I had some trouble getting this chapter beta- read, but I've got one now, Bodie. An important little note; I'm changing my penname to Majestic Whirligig. I'm also renaming the whole story. My first choice title is: The Night of the Broken Glass.  
  
If you want to be notified when I update again, please leave your e-mail in a review. 


	10. Petunia's Hope

Night Of The Broken Glass  
  
Petunia's Hope  
  
Petunia had been staying with the Weasley's for two days now. She hadn't seen much of them. They were always at the hospital visiting that girl, or off somewhere. They tried to distance themselves for her. The first night she was there for dinner it had only been Sirius, George, and herself.  
  
Sirius keep trying to dig up old memories, while George was eager to hear about old pranks that had been pulled. They did her best to make her feel welcome.  
  
She had cooked them dinner, with some trouble. She had keep George on hand to help her with were things were keep, but he wasn't that much help. He told her how is mother does all the cooking and doesn't make any of the kids help, unless it is to set the table. He told her how Mrs. Weasley used magic to cook; she could summon anything with a flick of her wand.  
  
He tried to teach her how to summon small object. "Hold your wand in your wand hand." She had looked at him blankly. "The hand you write with," he explained. He had placed her fingers where they should be, he told her to loosen up her fingers, wrist, and upper arm. He showed her how to flick her wrist without straining it.  
  
"I never know that there was so much to this wand waving thing. I always though it was just waving you wand saying some made up words." She waved her wand around, and said "Adva Kadavbra!" A drizzle of blue light came out of her wand.  
  
"Don't say that!" George yelled at her. He snatched the wand right out of her hand. She looked at him confused.  
  
"What? Is it like that Voldemort thing? You wizard and your weird corks."  
  
"Don't. Say. That. Name!" He stressed each word. "And yes, it is like saying that name. There's a curse that sounds just like that. Mostly Muggle born wizard know about that, they've past it on to us," George told her.  
  
"Know about what? Adva Kadavbra?" she asked, a smile danced at the corner of her mouth.  
  
"Don't say that!" George told her again. He put Petunia's wand, and his own into his pocket. She was about ready to protest, but he stopped her. "You can have it back when you promise not to say that again."  
  
"Only if you tell me why," She retorted.  
  
"Deal," George said. "There is a curse, like I said, that sounds just like what Muggle magicians say when they pull a rabbit out of a hat. As far as we know, it has no effect in the Wizarding world. Are version is a curse. It's the killing curse. It's unblockable. If you are hit with it, you will die, unless you're Harry."  
  
"What?" Petunia asked shocked. "Harry? As in my nephew Harry?"  
  
"Yup, the one and only. He lived when the curse hit him. You-Know-who, on the other hand didn't come out so great. Harry defeated him. I thought you new that all ready, through."  
  
"Um, yes I guess I did know that. It said in a letter what had happened that night." Petunia dimly remembered reading the letter. "Can why go back to my wand lesson? I promise not to say that again."  
  
She was able to perform the Summoning Charm, but she had to use the charm many times to get the object to her. Petunia was still proud of her shaky skills to show Sirius what she could do. George told her that she was learning fast, and the Summoning Charm was taught to fourth years. He told her about Harry's Summoning for the first task.  
  
"He faced a dragon on a broom?" she asked in disbelief. He could have gotten killed. How come he never told us about that?"  
  
George looked at her, "He didn't think you would care. He thought you would have been disappointed that he hadn't died."  
  
"And we would have been." George gawked at her.  
  
The second day at The Borrow Petunia had spent the morning talking to Sirius. Every one else was either still asleep or had all ready left for work. George had left early to get Pig back from the owl lady.  
  
Sirius had shown her all around the house and the gardens and lawns. He should her the gnomes, the ghoul, and the talking mirror. She had gotten quiet a shock when the mirror started talking to her. She had talked to the mirror for a good twenty minutes to the amusement of Sirius.  
  
Petunia hadn't wanted to see the ghoul in the attic. She had asked Sirius what made all the noise at nighttime. She had stayed in Ginny rooms, and had given the girl quite a fright when she had come into her room and Petunia had been stretched out on the hideaway bed. The noise had kept her awake for the longest time. She was use to her house that never made any noise in the middle of the night.  
  
Sirius had insisted on showing her the ghoul. The ghoul was the worst thing she had ever seen. It was a pasty color, and when it was in front of the window the light that shined through him became the color of dust. The attic in itself gave her the creeps. Cobwebs hung all over the place, the dust was ages old, and the air was musty. Petunia knew that if she didn't leave, she was going to clean the place top to bottom.  
  
She had found the gnomes delightful. She helped Sirius degnome the garden. She caught them, and Sirius tossed them high above them over the fence. When all the gnomes where gone Petunia worked in the garden a bit. Sirius showed her simple pruning charms, but she had a hard time doing them. She weeded the garden the only way she knew how too, on her hands and knees bent over the garden. She was still working when a window upstairs opened and a face peered out of the window. The freckled red headed boy was looking out over the field, Petunia thought she recognized him as Harry's friend, but she couldn't place his name.  
  
He looked down at her, "What are you doing here?"  
  
"Gardening," she replied very crisply, and under her breath she add "You little brat,"  
  
"Pardon?" he said. "Aren't you Harry's horrid aunt?" Mrs. Weasley had come around the house in time to hear Ron calling Petunia horrid. Her hands were on her hips, and her lips were drawn into a thin line. No one had noticed her yet.  
  
"Why if I know some more curse then that killing curse you'd be in trouble!" She shook her wand up at him. Ron pulled himself back through the window and slammed it shut, but not before, he gave a yelp of surprise.  
  
"Mrs. Dursley!" Mrs. Weasley yelled at her. Her eyes were blazing. "How dare you threaten one of my children? You are a guest in this house, and I want you to behave as such. Do you understand?" Mrs. Weasley roared at her.  
  
Petunia looked at her stunned. She nodded her head, and down cast her eyes.  
  
"Good. Lunch is ready," she said very stiffly. She turned on her heal; digging her shoe into the ground and with a swish of her robes, she was gone.  
  
Petunia gathered up the gardening tools. She put them away in the shed. The closer she got to the house the louder the yells got. She could hear one of the boys yelling as loud as he could. She pushed the door open and slipped in. Ron was yelling at any one who would listen to him.  
  
"Who taught her the killing curse?" Ron yelled.  
  
George came into the kitchen holding Pig. Petunia wanted to go over to the little bird to see how it was doing, but she could tell that this wasn't the time. "She doesn't know the killing curse." All eyes went to George. Ron's mouth hung open. "She was waving around her wand saying what Muggle's say. I took her wand away, and told her how wizards don't say that because of the killing curse."  
  
"I see," said Mrs. Weasley. She turned to Petunia, "There is a lot that you don't know about the Wizarding world, and sometimes you really need to be careful with what you say. I hope you understand."  
  
Lunch had been a quiet meal. Petunia sat in silence; she didn't say a word through out the meal. She didn't even ask the girl to pass the salt when she wanted to put some on her meat, she went with out.  
  
The afternoon went by with out trouble. Petunia had made herself seldom seen around the house. She spent the afternoon weeding the back garden while talking to Sirius and George, the only ones who would talk to her.  
  
Ron, Fred, and Mrs. Weasley went back to see Hermione. Ginny had stayed behind and was now shut up in her room. Everybody else was off working. The two older sons had to go back to there far away jobs, and wouldn't be returning.  
  
"If I wanted to go back to my house how would I do that?" Petunia asked George after dinner that night. They were sitting outside near the garden. Sirius was in his dog form and he was laying at Petunia's feet.  
  
"Why would you want to go back?" George asked.  
  
"To get some stuff, like my robes, and some stuff that was Lily's."  
  
"Oh. Dad never got your house off the Floo Network. He left it on in case we needed to get to Harry.  
  
"You mean if we were being mean to him."  
  
"Well yes."  
  
"Could you help me get back to my house?"  
  
"I think so," George said. They set up a time to go back to Privet Drive.  
  
Petunia didn't go to sleep that night. She stayed awake waiting for one in the morning, the time that she would be going home. She watched the hands of her watch go round, and waited. She had to wait for Ginny to fall asleep.  
  
At twelve fifty Petunia tossed back the covers. She was fully dress, but her feet. She pulled on her shoes, and was about to leave the room when Ginny moved. Petunia froze.  
  
"Where are you going?" Ginny asked in cold voice. She had propped herself up on her elbows and faced Petunia. Her face was pale in the in the dim moonlight. Petunia could hardly make her out.  
  
"That is none of your business." Petunia left Ginny staring after her. She crept down the stairs and into the kitchen. George was waiting for her by the fireplace. He held out the Floo Powder. They both took a pinch for the way back, and one to get there.  
  
"When you throw the Floo powder into the fire you have to say 'Flowed house.' Don't ask me, some one at the ministry thought of it."  
  
"All right, that sounds easy. I'll go first to make sure Vernon isn't still up." Petunia stepped up to the dyeing fire, and let it whisk her away.  
  
She bit her lip to keep from screaming as she spun around in the network. She fell onto the floor of her living room. The impact caught her off guard. She could taste blood in her mouth from her lip. She jumped out of the way when the fire rose up again and turned green.  
  
She steadied George when he came out of the fire. The cost was clear. George was to wait for her by the fire when she went up to the attic to retrieve her old robes. She left him in the living room looking at all the pictures on the walls.  
  
Petunia was at the door when a hand gripped her arm. She gave a yelp of surprise. "Shh, its just me Petunia," George whispered to her. Petunia put one shaking hand over her heart trying in vain to calm herself down. George looked at her strangely, "Are you okay?"  
  
I'm fine. Just try not to sneak up on my again like that." George nodded. "What do you need?  
  
"There's a spell that will help you get your trunk down. It is a first year charm, so you shouldn't have any problems with it.  
  
"What does it do?" asked Petunia.  
  
"It will levitate your trunk. You'll be able to float around." Petunia looked at him with wide eyes eager to know more. "You have to really concentrate or it won't work. The spell is Wingardium Leviosa!"  
  
Petunia looked around the room puzzled. "I don't get, nothing happened."  
  
George chuckled lightly at her. "I didn't have my wand in my hand," he told her, "We're not aloud to use magic over the summer. We don't you give it a try. Pick a small object and say the words." He should her the way to flick and swish her wand over a picture on the mantel. Nothing happened.  
  
"It won't work," she said in a defeated and whiny voice.  
  
"It could be worse," he told her. "One poor wizard had a buffalo land on his chest when he said the spell wrong." He grinned at her shocked face. "Try saying it like Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa. Got that?"  
  
Petunia tried it, and to her grate delight the picture hovered four feet in the air.  
  
"That's good!" The picture wobbled and started to fall slowly. "Keep it up! Keep it up there!" Petunia steadied it. "Good. Now keep you wand where it is and walk. It should hover above your wand."  
  
It moved with Petunia as she walked around the room. "I did it! I really did!"  
  
"Shh! Petunia, do you want to wake the whole neighborhood?" He had grabbed her by her forearms and gave her a slight shake. The picture came crashing to the floor. The glass face shattered on impact. Petunia gave a cry of fright, but regretted it. She chewed on her tongue nervously waiting to hear if anyone woke up.  
  
"I don't think anyone woke up. I think you should go know, I'll wait here for you." Petunia nodded and made her way to the stairs. She heard George hiss good luck to her.  
  
Her clean house had fallen apart in the two days that she had been gone. Dirty clothes lined the stairs and the hallways. Petunia skipped over the first stair, she remembered how it would squeak when some one put any weight on it. That stair itself had woken her up a few times when some one was sneaking around.  
  
Petunia went by Vernon's room on her way up to the attic. She paused outside his door to listen. She heard nothing come from the room, so she moved on. She went to the end of the hallway. A rope hung from the ceiling and a crack in the ceiling was the only hint that there was an attic in the house.  
  
Petunia pulled down the fold up ladder. Cold stall air floated down to her. She had to fight down a sneeze, but it was a losing battle. She heard Vernon grunt from his room. She froze and listened until she was sure that she hadn't woken anyone.  
  
The attic was dark and musty. Petunia couldn't make out anything in the darkness. Large dark objects loomed over her. "Lumos" she whispered. Sirius had taught her light spell and how to put out the light. The narrow beam of light stretched out into the dark. Petunia raised her wand to make the light go out farther.  
  
She walked down a narrow path lined with old junk. The attic ran the full length of the house, and had become packed full of odds and ends. She knew just where she was going, her hope chest.  
  
She found it hidden in the back of the attic, covered in years of dust, and grim. She remembered dragging it up into the attic and over to this corner she hadn't opened it then. She had to push it, shove it, and pull it across the length of the attic. She had cover the chest in a length of fabric, but it was now know where to be seen. That had been the last time she had been up in the attic.  
  
She bent down in front of the faded green trunk to study it. Its paint was pilling off and the gold trim brown with grim and aged. The lock had become rusted and Petunia was glad she hadn't locked it up many years ago.  
  
She ran her hand over the top, leaving a trail of dust free green, and gold paint. She leaned closer. She could still make out faded gold lettering. She lingered her long fingers over the lettering, before touching it. The gold paint came off with her touch, leaving her fingers with the slit glint of gold. Her name. It had been fancy in its day.  
  
Petunia closed her eyes. Her hands found the latch. As she opened the trunk the hinges made a horrid screeching noise. She know what she would find when she opens her eyes, the contents would look just how they had seventeen years ago when Lily had kicked it shut in a fit of rag, which had happened often. The day she had moved into this house was one of the last times she saw Lily on her own free will.  
  
Their parents wouldn't let them out of holiday get-togethers. Lily would bring James with her when the family got together. Petunia had gone alone, Vernon wouldn't step foot in her old home. Petunia didn't speak to Lily or James. Lily didn't seem to care, she wouldn't have spoken to her anyway, but everyone else was highly annoyed. James had tried to be peacemaker. In the end, he only made things worse.  
  
After Lily and James death, she had stopped going to her parents' house. They had begged her to come over with their grandchild, but she wouldn't. They never understood why she couldn't come back, neither did she.  
  
When Petunia had moved out of her home to live with Vernon, Lily had put a charm on both of their chest at their parent's request. She had told Petunia that it would keep everything nice and new, but Petunia could have cared less. Back then she wanted everything in the chest to rot.  
  
Petunia and Lily stopped talking to each other when Petunia was sixteen. Lily's chest had all but gotten destroyed that Halloween. Petunia shuddered at the thought. They had stopped specking to each other at the same time. Little things led to their silence, it was Lily's fault as much as hers. It had driven their parents to the edge. Petunia could remember many hostile dinners. She couldn't help but miss her sister know that she had what she had always wanted. She just wished Lily was with here to teach her magic.  
  
She opened her eyes, "Oh Merlin!" Her eyes grew wide as she looked at the wedding gown. She dropped her wand, but the light still showed her what she needed to see. She reached out a hand to touch the soft white fabric. She pulled out the gown. The folds and wrinkles fall out leaving it smooth and beautiful in Petunia's hands. Lily had looked like a fairy in her dress when she married that Potter boy.  
  
Tears sprang to her eyes as she remembered the days leading up to the wedding, and the wedding itself. Voices swam in her head. She dropped the dress back on top of the pile in the trunk. She closed it. "Out of sight out of mind," she keeps repeating to herself. The wedding hadn't been a happy day for her. She plucked the wand up off the floor.  
  
She was shocked when the trunk floated before her on her first try with the charm. She walked with it floating in front of her. She was in total darkness as she made her way to the ladder. She wished now that she had never come back. 'Its to painful to remember,' she thought.  
  
She backed down the ladder managing not to drop the trunk on herself. She turned around to find her way blocked.  
  
Vernon Dursley was standing before her. The trunk fell to the floor with a load crash. It just missed falling on Petunia. Vernon was standing less then a foot away.  
  
"Hello Petunia," he said. He sounded perfectly calm despite the fact that she had ran out on him and their son and then came back two days later like a thief in the night.  
  
"V-vernon," she stuttered. She couldn't think of anything to say to him, she just stood there as he loomed over her.  
  
"I'm not surprised you came back. I know you would sooner or later. I've been waiting for you to sneak in, in the night when you hoped no one would see you. I've been waiting for you.  
  
"You have? Why?" Petunia was shaking with fright. She wondered where George was. He must have heard the trunk fall.  
  
"You are my wife Petunia, and I'd be damn if I let you run off to so flee bitten wizards."  
  
"I can leave if I want to. You have no right to keep me her anymore. I'll curse you if you don't step out of my way." She was gripping her wand tightly to keep it from shaking.  
  
Vernon's eyes flashed with furry. "How dare you threaten me woman!" He roared at her. Petunia was taken aback when she saw the look in his eyes. He looked slightly deranged, and sleep deprived. He advanced on her, closing the small gap between them with one step. Petunia couldn't back away for the heavy trunk was behind her.  
  
He grabbed onto her arms and gave her a small shake, just as George had done before, but Vernon's grip was painful. "Let me go," she gasped.  
  
"What are you going to do if I don't?" Petunia didn't say anything. "Answer me Petunia!"  
  
"I'll curse you, like I said I will." She didn't know any real curses, but she could play with his mind like Lily and her friends use to do with her. Some of the color left his face, Petunia was glad to see she had frightened him. His grip on her arms tightened.  
  
He leaned in close to her, "Don't threaten me!" he snarled at her. He let go of one of her arms. He reached in front of himself. Petunia didn't know what he was about to do. He grabbed onto her hand that was gripping her wand. "Let go of it Petunia" he hissed at her.  
  
She shook her head. "Fine. Then I'll just take it." He grabbed on to the wand and pulled it right out of her hand. Petunia tried to hold on, but her palm was so sweaty she couldn't keep a grip on it.  
  
"No, give it back," she said in a defeated voice.  
  
"All right, if you really want it," he said. Petunia stared at him. There something in the way he spoke that made her think she wouldn't be getting her wand back. He raised it in front of her face, and snapped it in half.  
  
A long mournful scream ripped from her throat. Something in her hurt when he broke her wand, like her magic snapped. She flung herself at him. She clawed at his hands and face. She hit him in the chest, trying to hurt him as much as he had just hurt her. "How dare you do that!" She cried.  
  
He held the pieces of her wand above her head so she couldn't get them. She backed up into her trunk again, and got an idea. She jumped up on it, and from there she was able to get the wand halves out of his grip. White smoke was coming out of the wand, all the magic was licking out. She shoved the two pieces back together. The white smoke trickled between the cracks.  
  
She looked Vernon in the face. Her furry had left. She felt weak and she was shaking all over. Vernon still loomed over her, making her feel small like a child. "Are you happy now that you've hurt my? Did you want to make sure I would never show my face here again? Is that why you did this?" She held up her wand for him to see.  
  
"You hurt me too, Petunia." Vernon said in a normal voice. "You took away the person I loved the most. You left me."  
  
"Vernon, I had to leave. I don't belong here any more. I belong with them now. I got the thing I have wanted for almost all of my life. I'm magical."  
  
"Don't say such rubbish Petunia." He took one of her hands in both of his. "You know that you belong here. This is your home, your family. What about Dudley?"  
  
"Dudley and you will be just fine without me. I promise." Petunia pulled her hand out of his. She hopped down from her trunk. She focused on the spell that she needed to get it back to the Borrow. She muttered it under her breath. White smoke seeped out of the wand, but the trunk didn't move. Vernon had backed away from her. She thought about calling for George, maybe she could use his wand. It wasn't that bad of an idea, but she didn't want Vernon to kill him.  
  
She walked over to the stairs that went down. She stood at the top and called for George.  
  
"Who's George?" Vernon questioned her. He grabbed her arm again, and gave it a painful squeeze.  
  
"He is a friend. You have nothing to worry about, he is boy a year or so older then Har- Dudley." George appeared at the bottom of the stairs. He looked at the two.  
  
"Are you alright Petunia?" George asked.  
  
"I'm fine." She didn't see reason to tell George about her fight with Vernon, not now at less. "I just need to use your wand, can I?"  
  
"Sure." He came up the stairs and handed it to her. He could see that she had been crying. Vernon's face was covered in scratch marks, but he didn't say anything.  
  
Petunia lead the way back to the trunk where it had fallen, Vernon still had a tight grip on her arm. She said the spell, and Vernon back away again. She floated the trunk down the stairs. George was right behind her, Vernon was farther off.  
  
The reached the fireplace. "So you came by the fire, then?" Vernon asked.  
  
"Yes." Was all Petunia said.  
  
Vernon spun her to look at him in the face. She went tense in his arms, and George looked at them like her was ready to pounce. "Don't come back Petunia, unless you are going to stay. Next time you come I might break more then just your wand." He pushed her away from him. George was snarling at him.  
  
"Good bye then Vernon." She tossed Floo Powder into the fire. "The Borrow!" She said, her voice had a slight waver. She and the trunk where gone in an instant.  
  
George moved to the fire, but Vernon stopped him. "I don't want to see you or you're family near this house again. I've told you lot that before, but this time I want you to stay a way."  
  
George tossed in his Floo Powder into the fire and was gone. When he arrived, he saw Petunia sitting at the table with her head in her arms. She was in tears.  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N: Thanks to the one person who reviewed chapter nine (Luinthoron), and to those people who review some of the earlier chapters.  
  
I've posted today in honor of my first full day of summer vacation. I am officially a junior in high school! This is going to be a great summer for me. I'll turn sixteen, I'll get my driver's license, and my first job!  
  
I've got a shorter companion fic to go with this story, and I'm going to post it when I get a hundred reviews. That's my goal. And I'll dedicate it to whoever happens to be my 100dth reviewer. The fic centers around one of the couples that I've written about in this story.  
  
The next chapter is already written, but I'm on the verge of throwing it out. It seems like a filler chapter that I could do with out, but there are one or two key things. It's a flashback to Lily and James' wedding from Petunia's POV.  
  
Cheers!  
  
Lisa Cove, soon to be Majestic Whirligig on Fanfiction.net 


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